


Much Ado About Nothing

by notjustmom, scrub456



Series: John and Sherlock's Excellent Adventure [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: ACD quotes, F/M, M/M, Return to Greece, Sherlock Holmes's Retirement, Wedding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 13:04:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 39
Words: 41,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8162945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom, https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrub456/pseuds/scrub456
Summary: "Life is infinitely stranger than anything which the mind of man could invent.” - Arthur Conan Doyle





	1. Return

Home.

They were finally going home. Yes, they would begin planning another ceremony soon, but it would be different, completely different, and yet the same.

It had been two months since they had been married. John couldn't remember ever being as content and as happy as he had been these last weeks. He looked down at their hands, fingers entwined, then at his husband's peaceful face; he was sound asleep. John studied the face he knew so well, loved so completely and wished he had the talent to draw or paint him; he had only words which could never quite capture the...whatever it was about Sherlock that made his heart flip when he looked at him in that way he had...the way he was looking at him right now.

"Sorry."

"For?" Sherlock yawned, then kissed John's knuckles.

"Thinking too loudly - I wish I could draw you."

"Why?"

"I just never seem to be able to capture you in words, and I've tried, for years - you defy explanation..."

Sherlock grinned and John's mind went blank. 

"How, how do you - do that to me. How much longer til we land?" John's voice hit that low note that drove Sherlock crazy.

"Just one more hour, love. One more hour, and we'll be home."

 

Mycroft watched her look at the ring on her finger, it surprised him how much it mattered to him that she chose to wear it on her hand, where everyone could see it, even at work, they knew what she was to him. 

"Myc?"

"Hmm?"

"What is it?"

"I didn't think it would make a difference."

"What, us being married?" Vi whispered.

He nodded and their eyes met.

"I love you. So much, Vi. I can't wait to show you the island. You'll love it. The people, the sea, the peace..."

"I will love it simply because I will be there with you."

He bit his lip and turned off both phones. "We're officially on our honeymoon. What do you think we should do to pass the time before we have to leave for the airport?"

"Hmmm...I believe I may have an idea or two."

 

Donovan zipped up her suitcase, full of shorts, bathing suits, a couple of sundresses and brightly coloured shirts. Molly had taken her shopping last week to help her 'unbeige' her wardrobe. She and Andy would have a week in Greece, a week away from London, away from all of the ugliness they had to deal with every day. At least he understood, he knew what she saw, because he was there, at her side. Surprisingly, it had worked, Andy had proven himself a deft politician as well as an efficient and capable cop, he was friendly, and willing to learn; his younger co-workers admired him, while the veterans took him under their collective wing. Of course there were moments when abuse cases would come up, and the nightmares shook him. It seemed they would have a few easy nights, then something would set him off, and he needed a bit of space, a midnight walk on his own. She knew it wasn't her and he would come back and wrap around her, needing her, wanting her, but it was hard. She wanted to be able to fix it for him, but she knew it would take time. She just had to keep reminding him that she was there for the long haul. She knew he loved her, and she had never loved anyone, never trusted anyone as she did him. 

"Ready?"

"Yeah. God, yeah, I can't wait to get the hell out of here."

"I can't wait to see you in a bathing suit, especially that green bikini..."

"I can't believe Molly got me to buy that -"

"You'll be stunning in it."

"But -"

"No buts about it, you are beautiful, Donovan. Ah - taxi's here."


	2. Mischief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Women are naturally secretive, and they like to do their own secreting." -Arthur Conan Doyle, A Scandal in Bohemia

"Ready, love? The car will be here soon, and we still need to drop Toby... Oh god. What are you doing?" Molly rolled her eyes at the ridiculous man in front of her.

Greg was staring into his open suitcase, half the contents lay spread over the bed, and he was holding a garment bag in one hand. "Don't want to check another bag, but I can't seem to make it fit."

"You're not bringing that suit. You don't need it."

"But Mols..."

"Greg," she laughed, "I know you love it. I know-"

"You do too." He grumbled.

"Damn right I do. But there isn't room for it," Molly began discreetly folding and replacing the discarded items into the case. She stopped and with a raised eyebrow picked up the neon green speedos. "Did a bit of shopping on our own, did we?"

"Thought you'd like those." He winked and chuckled at Molly's blush. "Besides, they'll humiliate John, and that's my life's goal."

"It's a good thing I'm secure in our relationship. If I were a lesser woman, I might be jealous of the amount of time and attention you pay John. It's obscene. You're obscene. You realize that, right?" Feigning disgust, she dropped the offending garment in the case. "One of these days, Sherlock might have something to say about it."

"Nah, he likes it when John gets all bothered. I'm really doing them both a service." Greg snorted and nodded, "Okay, yeah, I heard it that time." 

Molly finished packing the suitcase, and stood with her hands on her hips. She nodded to the garment bag. "Why do you think you need to bring that thing anyway?"

"Well, there's going to be a ceremony..."

"Nuh-uh. John and Sherlock both said it's not like that there. Very casual."

"I look bloody fantastic in it."

"You do," Molly agreed enthusiastically. "You also look bloody fantastic out of it."

"What if I... There's something I wanted to do..."

"Why don't you let me see to the mischief this time around?" Molly's smile went devious.

"Oh god..."

"That's right, I've got a little trouble planned for you. No suit required. Clothing optional, actually..."

"Won't that scandalize the locals?" Greg laughed as he turned to hang the suit back in his closet. Molly caught his arm and pulled him back and into a deep, needy kiss.

"You know what?" She took a slight step back and smoothed her shirt. "I changed my mind." She leaned in and whispered breathlessly in Greg's ear, "Bring it. Just the trousers."

"Haa... fuck..." Greg groaned.

Molly hummed and spun away, giving her skirt a little twirl. "Yes." She grinned back over her shoulder. "But not now. Right now we have a flight to catch. Hurry up."

"Damn you, woman."

 

* * *

 

 

The last hour of the flight was absolutely uneventful. It was the longest hour of John's life. But finally, finally, after circling out over the gorgeous sea, and catching a glimpse of the tiny islands through the window, they landed and were given permission to disembark.

"Oh god. I'm so..."

"I know, love. Me too." Sherlock chuckled and kissed him deeply. "Save some of that excitement for customs."

"Why'd you have to go and ruin it?" John laughed. He bumped Sherlock's shoulder with his own as they pulled down their carry-on bags. They'd sent everything ahead, both agreeing they'd let the professionals handle it. They wanted their official return to be easy and unencumbered. As much as possible, anyway. Which seemed less likely the closer they got to customs. Sherlock was tempted to try and dodge it altogether, and he almost had John convinced, but they had to rescue poor Bluebell from her travel crate.

"We can start retirement with a caper. It'll be brilliant." Sherlock's eyes flashed as he scanned all the available exits and escape routes.

"More like starting retirement with a police chase and extradition. No thank you." John laughed as he took Sherlock by the hand and pulled him into the appropriate queue. "C'mon love. Let's get it over with, yeah?" 

"Look there," Sherlock pointed to an unguarded door. "No security and no cameras pointed at it."

"Sherlock, that sign clearly says that's the security offices." John shook his head and they inched forward.

"Which is why it's perfect. If we can get in there..."

"Past the passcodes." John pointed at the keypad. "And security card readers."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "It's like you don't even know me."

"I know you're..."

"Amazing? Brilliant? Your dream come true?" Sherlock grinned at him.

"I was going to say ridiculous," John laughed and kissed his cheek, "and a bit mad..." He pulled Sherlock to him so he could kiss his forehead and they both giggled.

"Hurtful words, John." Sherlock sighed, despite his smile. They took a step and a half forward.

John teased him with a quick kiss on the lips. "... _and_ I was going to say I have zero doubt you could get us back there, find Bluebell, and out a side hallway quickly." He kissed him again. "But I like it here, and I don't want to get kicked out."

"Very well..." Sherlock pouted. "Though I'm certain Myc could make it all go away quite..."

"Mr. Holmes? Doctor Watson?" A man in a very official looking suit with a very important looking badge stepped up to them. "Please follow me."

Sherlock huffed and groaned, John just held tight to his hand and followed the man. "What's this about?" He demanded, then murmured to Sherlock, "what did you do?" Sherlock frowned and shook his head.

The man led them to security. Sherlock whispered into John’s ear, "1-1-2-8-7-9."

"Excuse me?" The guard glanced at him and entered his code. The code Sherlock had just whispered.

Sherlock smiled innocently and then mouthed "told you" to John as the guard swiped his security card. John snorted and covered it with a cough.

"We've been given special instructions..." He said something about embassies and paperwork, special circumstances and home office. It all boiled down to Mycroft's interference, and neither one of them had ever been more grateful. If they were honest though, neither one paid him much mind as they rounded the corner and were met by a wiggling, prancing, slobbery Bluebell.

"We'll have you three processed and out in just a tick," the man in the suit said. "Don't know who you know who can get you past all this, but you're lucky "

"More like constantly surveilled. Perpetually irritated?" Sherlock scrunched up his face.

John elbowed him in the ribs. "You'll miss him now we're here and he's there." John handed over their passports. He turned back to the man in the suit. "I've got more paperwork, do you need..."

"We've got everything we need, sir." He handed the passports back. "Follow me, I'm told there's a car waiting."

Sherlock drew in a quick breath. "That's it? We can... We're going..."

"To miss the next ferry," John laughed. He clipped Bluebell's lead to her collar and held out his hand to Sherlock. "Let's go home."

They allowed the car to take them as far as the ferry dock, but decided they didn't want the hassle or the attention on the other side. With an indifferent shrug, the driver left them and drove off. They boarded quickly and John led Sherlock up to an upper deck.

Inhaling deeply, John dropped his bag and turned in a slow circle, basking in the sunlight. "I feel like I can finally breathe again."

"Hmm, I know what you mean." Sherlock pulled John to him and kissed him gently. He wrapped his arms around him and started humming the piece he'd composed the last time. They were oblivious to the ferry launching, to the other passengers chuckling or glaring, even to time passing as they swayed to their own music.

It wasn't until they neared the other shore that they pulled apart, and then only because of the shouted greetings.

"My boys! Oh look, Andreas! Our sons are home!" Ioanna cried as she clasped her hands in front of her mouth.

Andreas waved wildly, and shouted to them, "welcome home, my sons!"

"Home." Sherlock sighed as he blew a kiss, then waved joyously at Niko and Alex running toward the docks. John took his hand and and grinned across at his other family.

"Home."


	3. Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You have a grand gift for silence, Watson. It makes you quite invaluable as a companion.” - Arthur Conan Doyle

Ioanna took one look at her boys and saw everything. Everything they had been through since they had returned to England, some they had told her in letters and when they skyped, but she watched how they walked together, the way they were never far from each other, always within reach. She nodded and whispered to Andreas. "They need time." Her husband nodded and he took Sherlock and John aside. "Go and settle, we will help your family when they arrive. They will want to eat and explore, just as you did. You need some quiet, yes?"

Sherlock grinned. "You know us so well, my friend. Thank you, yes. We need some time." Ioanna kissed them both, then invited the rest of the villagers to wait with them as some new friends would be arriving shortly; Sherlock and John would join them for lunch the following day.

John whistled for Bluebell, and as he turned he laughed as both Kya and Bluebell appeared at his side expectantly. "Alright, girls, alright, plenty of treats for both of you." He reached out for Sherlock's hand, and they made their way to their cottage. They walked in silence, simply breathing in the summer scents, so different from March, and yet, they were the same, just deeper and sweeter. The dogs ran ahead of them, Bluebell seemed to understand there was no need for the caution and alertness that dictated their lives in London, she pranced and dashed far into the distance, then was back in a flash, as if trying to get them to hurry along. Sherlock was having none of it; he had already rediscovered the peaceful, slow gait that he had found on their first visit. John briefly wondered if Sherlock had forgotten him. That thought was quickly dismissed as Sherlock stopped suddenly and pulled John into his arms, kissing him like John was the only other person on the planet.

"That would be like forgetting my better, wiser, and braver half, καρδιά μου," Sherlock murmured into John's hair; they stood together, John leaning into Sherlock, feeling they could never be as close as he wanted, Sherlock's arms held him tightly, as if afraid to let go.

"Cottage. We're almost there, love."

Sherlock nodded and released him so they could continue their walk; finally, after a few more minutes they reached their door, they paused and John grinned up at Sherlock, "may I?"

Sherlock nodded, and John put his bag down and swept his husband into his arms, then carried him across the threshold. "Welcome home, love." John kissed him softly, then continued into their bedroom, and laid him down gently on a freshly made up bed. 

"There were times when I thought we weren't going to make it back here, but I should never have doubted you, or us. We were always meant for this place." John kissed him again, then pulled away and began undressing. He took his time, not needing or wanting to rush, and he watched Sherlock's eyes glitter in the late afternoon light; wanting him, needing him.

"John." Sherlock reached out for him, pulling him into bed.

"I know, love."

"You are beautiful, my husband."

John shuddered as Sherlock nuzzled his neck, leaving a trail of kisses that always left him breathless. Sherlock rolled John onto his back, then quickly divested himself of his clothing. John drew in a sharp breath as the light hit then; Sherlock seemed golden, his dark curls shimmered, and his eyes sparkled down at him. John extended a trembling finger and traced his husband's gently parted lips. "You are real. For a moment, I wasn't quite sure."

"All too real, I promise you." Sherlock laughed as he lowered himself so their bodies finally met, fitting together perfectly as they did somehow. John blew out the breath he had been holding and wrapped his arms around his love, letting the sensations crash over him. He was still adjusting to being able to fully touch the remarkable man who meant everything to him, and tears leapt to his eyes, as his emotions leveled him. 

Sherlock understood completely, as his logical, precise mind shut down and his instincts took over, the need to love and care for the man who trembled below him was all that existed now.

"I'm here, love. I'm here." He felt John nod and breathe easier, as Sherlock began to move, caressing and touching, tenderly and with love, silently bringing them both effortlessly to completion. He opened his eyes and saw John watching him, a gentle smile warmed him, reminding him again how fortunate they were to be there together.

"Hungry? I saw a basket -"

"Hmm...yes, but I'd rather stay here for a bit, then take a bath with you in our tub." John's eyes twinkled at him and Sherlock sighed.

"Amazing, you always manage to know just what I need." He rested his head against John's shoulder and closed his eyes. "I love you. Can't remember if I told you that enough today."

John laughed, then was silent. And Sherlock knew then that words weren't necessary any longer. And yet, John knew he needed them. "I love you more than I ever thought possible." John held him tighter and they breathed together as one; after a few minutes, he muttered, "bath, my love?"

"Bath, καρδιά μου."


	4. Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Perhaps when a man has special knowledge and special powers like my own, it rather encourages him to seek a complex explanation when a simpler one is at hand." -Arthur Conan Doyle

Andy twitched and fidgeted in his seat -- the ridiculously plush first class seat, upgrade courtesy Mycroft Holmes. He fiddled with his seat belt, adjusting the tension, then releasing it. Sally winced as he stood up and checked their carry-ons. Again.

"C'mon, Al. They're fine. Everything's fine." Sally reached out and gingerly took his hand between both of hers. She tugged gently until he sighed and dropped down in his seat. "Never thought the likes of you would be afraid to fly," she whispered, there was no teasing in her tone.

"Not afraid, just... Not my favorite. Not after last time." Andy rubbed his face with his free hand.

"What happened last time? Turbulence? Lost your luggage?" Maybe a bit a of teasing this time.

Andy shook his head and rolled his eyes. "An intelligence mission to... ah, can't tell you that, the mission is still classified as ongoing... Agents still in the field. They needed a tech guy. Last time I flew it was in an MOD Defender. Had to repel out the back with my tech kit and a rifle strapped to my back."

"Repel. You repelled out of a perfectly good aircraft..."

"Mhmm." Andy let his head fall back against the headrest and closed his eyes. "Landed on a rooftop, met my contact, worked my tech wizardry, and the building we were using was decimated two minutes after we cleared out. Entire city block destroyed. Evacuation disguised as a water convoy. Haven't flown since."

The flight attendant passed and offered champagne. Sally took two, and forced one into Andy's hand. "Drink. I know I need to." She sipped from her glass and nudged his hand. With a chuckle he downed his champagne in one go, and then finished hers.

"Sorry."

"Don't be." Sally took his hand and entwined their fingers. She kissed his knuckles and settled back into her seat, then pulled him to her so he could rest his head on her shoulder. "I've got you love. Besides, with Myc and Vi both on this flight, you have to know this is probably the most secure plane in the history of air travel."

"Too right," Andy giggled. "Sally Donovan, have I mentioned recently how much I love you?"

"Hmm. No, it's been a bit. At least half an hour."

"Unacceptable," Andy whispered directly in her ear, causing her to shiver. "I love you," he breathed before pulling her into a deep, lingering kiss.

"Make sure your seat belt is secure and your tray table is in place for take off." Greg laughed obnoxiously as he flipped the release on Andy's tray, startling them both.

"Shit." Andy jumped and clutched his chest. "Oh god," he panted.

"Greg, I swear, when we land..." Sally glared but knew better than to finish her threat.

"Oh, what now..." Molly stepped up behind Greg and swatted the back of his head. "Seat. Now. Stop being an arse." Greg pretended to pout, then winked as he made his way to their seats. "Sorry, you two. Carry on." She grinned knowingly and patted Andy on the shoulder.

"And he was my boss for... way too long." Sally huffed and rolled her eyes. She turned he focus back to Andy. "Where were we?"

"You were trying to convince me that there is absolutely no reason I should need to jump out of this airplane."

"Oh, right. And you were expressing your undying love."

Andy hummed in agreement and kissed her soundly.

 

* * *

 

"Ohhh... goddd... I'm glad we decided to keep this tub." John eased down into steaming water and leaned back.

Sherlock returned from the kitchen with the bottle of wine that was left for them, and one glass. They only needed the one. The flicker of the candlelight, the scent of chamomile and lemongrass, and the sight of his beautiful John submerged in bubbles nearly made his knees go weak.

John looked up and grinned his lopsided little grin and held out his hand. "Look at you," he breathed. "God, just... my husband is gorgeous. Perfect. Come over here. I need you in here."

Setting the wine and the glass beside the tub, Sherlock took John's hand and stepped into the water and lowered himself down. He moaned as John wrapped his arms around him and urged him to lean back.

"You're sure this is okay?"

"Yes of course." Sherlock rested his head back on John's shoulder, and turned just enough to kiss the underside of his jaw. He felt the shivers that ran through John's body.

John exhaled and let his eyes fall shut. "I just worry. You're so tall and your poor knees will be chilled. They're too lovely to suffer such a fate."

"Hmmm. This tub is longer than the one at Baker Street."

"Still..."

"John. While I'm sure my knees appreciate the concern, perhaps your attentions could be more effectively focused elsewhere."

"As you wish," John whispered directly in Sherlock's ear, and it was Sherlock's turn to shiver. He placed soft kisses on the back of Sherlock's neck.

"Not what I had in mind..." Sherlock groaned as he melted into John’s gentle affections.

"All right?"

Sherlock could only hum in response.

 

* * *

 

"Still only ringing through to voice mail. Both of them." Mycroft grumbled and dropped his mobile on his tray table. "They should've landed three hours ago."

"Myc, love," Violet covered his hand with hers.

"The satellite was repositioned correctly? The island has mobile service now?"

"Yes, I saw to it myself. You know this. All the other little Grecian islands will be jealous of their mobile capabilities." Violet sighed. "But I don't think..."

"And we've tracked their location?"

"Yes. Even in airplane mode, we pinpointed their location." She held up her mobile and showed Myc the two little red dots. "They're at the cottage."

"Sherlock always has his mobile in hand..."

"Except the last time he and John came to Greece," Vi offered gingerly.

Mycroft opened his mouth then closed it, and then he huffed. "He knows we're coming. Why wouldn't he answer?"

"Love," Vi cupped Myc's face with her hands. "When we get there, and we get to our room, what is the first thing you plan on doing?"

Mycroft blinked in response.

"With me." Vi giggled. "Alone. In our room. On our honeymoon."

Mycroft flushed crimson. "Ah."

"All they've wanted since they returned to London was to get back to their island. To their home. They suffered so much. They're married, and they are still exploring the nature of their relationship." Vi smiled and brushed a quick kiss on his lips. "I'd say they're taking advantage of the time before we invade, wouldn't you?"

Mycroft nodded and kissed her back. When they pulled apart, he still looked unhappy.

"Myc? That's not all. You're not actually worried that they didn't arrive safely. Tell me?"

"It's ridiculous, given the previously tremulous nature of our relationship, but..."

"You're going to miss having him close." Vi wrapped her arms around Myc and held him.

"Besides the time he was away, which was different altogether, there has never been so great a distance between us. At least not one so permanent in nature."

"Oh, Myc."

"And I'm not certain how to tell him..."

"Tell him what, love?"

"That I will miss him. That I still need my brother. That I... I love him." He let Violet pull him even closer.

"He knows, Myc. But we'll figure it out. You'll find the perfect way to let him know."


	5. Arrivals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I have seen too much not to know that the impression of a woman may be more valuable than the conclusion of an analytical reasoner." - Arthur Conan Doyle

"Fourteen texts, four voice mails," Sherlock muttered as he looked up from his phone and watched John slice bread from the loaf that had been waiting on the kitchen table for them.

"That's all? I would've expected more." John looked up and smiled at Sherlock's expression. "He's going to miss you. Guessing Vi reminded him why we might want a bit of privacy?"

"Ah. Yes. And considering they will be in the guest room..." Sherlock sighed as John licked a bit of fig preserves from his thumb. "It's just a week, right?"

"Mmmmhmmm...just a week..." John pushed a piece of bread slathered in fig into Sherlock's mouth. "Care to join me for a walk? I think the dogs need to be run a bit."

"Love to. Let me leave a note." He found a old notebook and a pen and jotted down a few words:

Myc and Vi -

Make yourself at home, just out for a bit of a walk, help yourself to anything in the cupboards. Be back in an hour or two.

-S and J

 

"God - It's the same, Vi, save for the new tub and toilet...the last time we were here, I was six, Sherlock wasn't even a thought, yet."

Vi smiled. She could see the younger Mycroft preferring the small collection of books over going with his parents into the village for dancing or playing in the sea.

"Look, here, here they are - afraid I was a bit buttoned up even then." He picked up the photograph that Ioanna had given to Sherlock. "I had forgotten how young they had been. She was lovely, don't you think? Sherlock favours her, he has her curls and her eyes. They were very much alike..."

"...and you are your father's double...would you like children?"

"Wha-?" He put the photograph down carefully and turned to meet her eyes.

"Sorry to spring it on you - but we haven't really talked about it, I'm curious, would you like to have a child, Mycroft?"

After a moment, he swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes, Vi, I'd very much like to have a child with you. Yes. I've had dreams lately..."

"Me too, Myc, a dream of a little -"

"girl." They whispered together.

"Let's go unpack and change into something more appropriate?"

"Let's." Mycroft grinned and kissed her hand, then grabbed their bags and carried them to their room.

 

"Ah, DI Donovan," Ioanna smiled broadly as she greeted Donovan with kisses on both cheeks. "You and your Al will stay with us." Andy and Donovan exchanged looks that made her shake her head. "No worries, we have often had, let us say, couples that are very much in love, stay with us. We understand the two of you are responsible for bringing our boys back to us."

"No - please - it wasn't like that. I was just doing my job." Donovan whispered, bowing her head.

Ioanna shook her head. "No, my dear. You went far beyond. You and Al are very important to them, and to us. You are family."

Andy's voice shook as he wrapped his arm around Donovan's trembling shoulders. "We would be honoured to be your guests. I've been abroad before, but never somewhere so lovely, and so peaceful."

Ioanna touched his face gently. "Ah, my dear, I know."

Andy's face darkened for a moment, then cleared. "Yes. I believe you do." He nodded and reached down, intending to pick up the bags but Donovan beat him to it with a wink.

"It's the first cottage, with the yellow door."

"And Mr. Lestrade and Ms. Hooper, we have all read so much about you, in the press and in the posts, it is wonderful to finally meet you. You will be in the green cottage next to us. I'm sure you have stories you can tell us over a feast tonight? We thought we'd give the newlyweds a chance to get reacquainted with the island and one another. Come, come. Get settled and dinner will be in a few hours."


	6. Nothing New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The old wheel turns, and the same spoke comes up. It's all been done before, and will be again." -Arthur Conan Doyle

"Should we bring some flowers back to the cottage?" John stretched and sighed contentedly as he laid back. They'd picked a spot on a grassy hillside covered in wildflowers, and decided to rest a moment. The sky was bright and full of fluffy clouds. They could hear the sea below them, and the calming hum of insects buzzing and birds singing. Kya and Bluebell were darting and prancing about, happy barking to each other and their humans.

"Why would we do that?" Sherlock propped himself on his elbow so that he was looking down on John with a playful smirk. He might have looked smug, but John saw the way his eyes glistened. Sherlock could deny it, he could fuss and fret, but John knew he was happy to have his brother here with them, to finally be able to share this place that had been so important to their parents. This was their home, John and Sherlock, but the Holmes family had history on the island.

"We do have guests. Might make them feel welcome. And people like flowers." John laughed as the hastily made flower crown he'd draped on top of Sherlock's breeze blown curls slid forward and over his eyes.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and tipped his head forward so that the crown tumbled down onto John. He adjusted it so it would sit properly on his hair, already reflecting the soft golden tones of the sunshine. "You realize the 'people' in question are Myc and Vi? Mycroft detests flora of any sort..."

"Violet likes them."

"How could you possibly know that?" Sherlock scrunched up his face.

"We're family now, we talk about things." John snorted at Sherlock's exaggerated frown. " _Sherlock_." 

"It's not as if anyone will even notice them anyway. They'll be too preoccupied defiling our guest room, and we'll be too busy trying not to be anywhere near them defiling our guest room, to even notice flowers."

"Oh god," John pulled a face. "Don't talk about them..."

"You're the one who agreed to allow them to stay in our home on their post-nuptial sex holiday."

" _Post-nuptial sex holiday?_ " John giggled. "It was your idea to start with, genius."

"It was only supposed to be a nice gesture. I didn't expect Myc to accept. No more pleasantries from me, I'll leave the navigation of expected social behaviors to you. People expect _you_ to be nice."

"Oh good. Sherlock with even less regard for common courtesy. Can't wait for that. I wonder if..." John's teasing was cut short by Sherlock's deep and lingering kiss. "Not fair," John giggled. "You can't solve everyth- uhmmm hmmm."

"You... were... saying?.." Sherlock murmered between kisses softly trailed along John's jaw. John sighed in response. Sherlock laughed against his neck.

"This isn't walking."

"Decidedly not. Well spotted, John." Sherlock grinned rakishly down at John. His eyes went wide in surprise as John somehow managed to topple him to his back and reverse their positions. "Damn it, how..."

"Two can play your games." John pushed the curls from Sherlock's brow and placed a gentle kiss there. "Beautiful."

"They're not expecting us right away..."

"We've got a bit of time then."

"All the time in the world, καρδιά μου."

 

* * *

 

"C'mon, Mols," Greg was practically begging from where he was draped across the bed. "We're on holiday!"

"Exactly. We're on holiday in this gorgeous, history rich place. We're not spending our first afternoon in bed." Molly's mobile buzzed. She flushed pink and refused to look at Greg after she read the message. That look told him all he needed to know.

"They're not going out either, are they? Sally and Andy are going to 'rest,'" he somehow made the use of air quotes look indecently filthy, "before dinner."

"Their loss," Molly huffed and finished changing into a bright, airy sundress.

"I thought you said you were planning some mischief."

"I did. I didn't say it was going to happen _here_." Molly slipped her feet into her sandles, grabbed her bag and settled her sunglasses on top of her head. She gave Greg a coy smile over her shoulder as she opened the bedroom door.

"Oh, bloody hell." Greg huffed as he tumbled from the bed to follow her.

They hadn't gone far when Greg leaned in and whispered, "We're being followed."

"I spotted them too," Molly giggled and glanced at the window reflection of the two boys trailing them. "Let's introduce ourselves?" Greg nodded and grinned.

They ducked into the sweets shop they were passing and emerged a few moments later with two small, laden bags of treats. The boys had caught up to them and were sitting on a bench pretending to not notice them.

"They remind me of..." Greg whispered and Molly giggled.

"Yup." She stepped right up to them. "I'm Molly, and this is Greg. And I think we're all friends with Sherlock and John."

The older of the two, tow headed and protective, glanced between Greg and Molly, his face changing from suspicion to awe. The younger boy crossed his arms over his chest. "We are not friends, we are brothers." Greg laughed at that. "Why are you laughing? Δεν αστειεύομαι*."

"Uhm... Θα μου θυμίζουν κάποιον..." Greg chuckled again when the boys gasped. "Sorry if I messed it up. My Greek is out of practice." He shrugged and pointed at the mini-Sherlock. "You must be Alex. Sherlock played your cd for us. He's very proud of you. You play very well." The boy blushed, but nodded, boldly keeping eye contact.

"And you are inspector Gregory Lest-"

"Lestrade."

"Lestrade," both Alex and Niko repeated.

"I used to be detective inspector, but I'm not any more. I'm just Greg."

"But, why?" Niko spoke up independently for the first time. "You solved crimes."

"I took another job... with the government." The boys scrunched their faces, but Greg winked at Molly then leaned in conspiratorially. Alex and Niko followed his lead. "Now I work with spies... Uhm, κατάσκοποι?"

"Spies?" Alex asked a little too loudly and clapped his hands over his mouth, but he was fairly vibrating with excitement. Greg nodded but pressed a finger over his lips to emphasize the importance of keeping the secret.

"Real spies?" Niko breathed.

Molly giggled and nodded. "It's true. But you can't tell." Niko nodded, eyes still wide. Molly knelt down in front of Niko. "You must be Niko. I'm..."

"You are doctor Molly Hooper," Alex supplied. "But you are not a doctor like γιατρός John. Sherlock said you give him body parts." Greg and Molly both laughed at that. "But γιατρός John saves people."

"γιατρός?" Molly turned to Greg.

"Doctor."

Molly bit her lip. "You boys call him γιατρός John, not just John?" Both boys nodded vigorously. Molly tried, unsuccessfully to suppress a squeal. "Adorable, you are. Just adorable. So, why? Why do you call him γιατρός John?"

"Because he is one." Niko shrugged. Greg chuckled at the no nonsense response.

Alex rolled his eyes and huffed, then motioned dramatically at Niko. "He rescued Niko."

Molly glanced over her shoulder at Greg, who shrugged and shook his head in ignorance. "Would you tell us the story? Stories about Sherlock and John having adventures are our favorite."

"Ours too," Niko nodded, though he looked a bit unsure. Alex took his hand.

"It's a good story. It's our very own adventure." Alex said softly. It was intended only for Niko to hear. "Αλλά δεν έχουμε να."

"Bloody hell," Greg murmured as Molly stood up next to him. "It's them, all over again." Molly nodded, a thoughtful look on her face.

"You don't have to tell us the story right now. But we would love to hear it." Molly's smile was warm.

"We're big fans of γιατρός John," Greg added. Molly elbowed him in the side.

"But we are new here and we would love it if someone showed us around." She held up her little paper bag. "And we bought more sweets than we could ever eat alone. We could use some help with that too." Molly handed the bag to Niko who glanced inside, a shy smile on his face. He showed the contents to Alex who nodded and then eyed the bag Greg held.

"We could maybe help you. For a little while." Niko stood and took Molly's hand. "But Alex tells the story better."

Greg handed his paper bag to Alex, who jumped up and took his place on the other side of Niko as they started walking. "There was a storm. Niko was φοβισμένος."

"Φοβισμένος?" Molly whispered to Greg.

"Scared."

"No I wasn't," Niko retorted, his mouth full.

"You were." Alex huffed. "Do you want to tell it?"

"If you aren't going to tell it right," Niko grumbled.

"You were φοβισμένος," Alex sighed, "but then you were very γενναίος." Niko ducked his head and blushed. Alex stopped and hugged his friend.

"I don't know if I can handle two sets of them." Greg whispered to Molly.

Molly huffed a quiet laugh. "You? I don't know if the universe can handle it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Δεν αστειεύομαι - I am not joking
> 
> Θα μου θυμίζουν κάποιον - You remind me of someone
> 
> Αλλά δεν έχουμε να - but we don't have to
> 
> φοβισμένος/Φοβισμένος - scared
> 
> γενναίος - brave


	7. Surfacing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There's a light in a woman's eyes that speaks louder than words.”  
> -Arthur Conan Doyle

Andy blinked at the late afternoon light. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I don't often get to see you at rest, and we are on holiday, after all, you are allowed a nap or two." Donovan whispered next to him. He looked into her eyes and shook his head.

"I keep expecting to open my eyes and find that you aren't real." He touched her face and her eyes glistened at him. She pulled him closer and felt him react against her. "Sally." He placed a single kiss between her breasts then stilled.

"Love?"

"How did you know I needed to be rescued?"

"I didn't. We just happened to meet at a time when we both needed someone, I know Sherlock doesn't believe in coincidences, but I'm not a big believer in magic or 'destiny.' All I know at the moment is that I am in a beautiful place, with my amazing, gorgeous, brilliant man, who is thinking entirely too much when we should be making love."

He moved so he could look into her eyes again, and he snorted.

"Sorry." He covered his mouth but couldn't stop the laughter that erupted. "I'm just happy, and I've never really believed that I deserved to feel this way. Somehow, you have allowed me to believe happiness is something possible for me. Damn, Sally, I love you so much and every day-"

She sat up and kissed him in a way that always brought any thought to a halt. "I know, my heart, I know. Now, make love to me."

"Yes, Guv."

"Damn, I love when you call me that."

He grinned as he spent the next hour teasing and caressing, before finally entering her. They both sighed and stopped for a moment before he began moving gently inside her. Donovan held onto him as he found those places that left her breathless, and she opened her eyes to find him looking down at her with a look she had never seen before. It wasn't gratitude, exactly, perhaps a prayer, smiled from his eyes. She felt him come inside her as she kissed him, and knew he had stopped doubting her love, mostly, though, he had finally stopped doubting himself. After he pulled out gently, she wrapped her strong arms and legs around him.

"You deserve to be happy and loved and cherished, Andy Gilchrist. I am amazed every single day that you found that with me, of all people." He made a move to interrupt her, but she laid a single finger on his lips. "It's true. I didn't believe I was built for happiness until I met you. Now, let's go shower and take a walk before dinner?"

 

When Sherlock and John returned with the exhausted but happy dogs, and armfuls of wildflowers, Mycroft and Vi were sitting side by side on the beach, both in t shirts and shorts, Vi was bareheaded, while Mycroft had donned a straw hat. Vi laughed as she noticed their shocked expressions.

"I went shopping, your tailor, of course, but they can do casual if requested."

When Sherlock finally found his voice he muttered under his breath, "It'll take longer than a week to get rid of that institutional paleness; he always burns. That's why he always wears the -"

"I can hear you." Mycroft snickered, under his hat.

Vi kissed him, then hopped up and took the flowers from Sherlock. "These are so beautiful, we should get them in water. John, do we have containers somewhere?"

"Not sure, let's find out?" John took Vi's arm and they left the brothers on their own.

"Classic set-up, do you learn that in spy school, or is it a gift?" Sherlock grumbled good-naturedly as he plopped down elegantly next to his brother.

"In Vi's case, she's a natural."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, simply staring at the sea.

"Has the village changed much from what you remember as a child?"

"No, it seems tiny now, of course, but for a few coats of new paint, and Ioanna's white hair, it is very much the village our parents knew and loved. I am glad you and John discovered it for yourselves; although-"

"Although?" Sherlock squinted up at Mycroft and waited for him to finish his thought.

"I will miss being close enough to effectively nag you." He cleared his throat and pulled his hat a little lower to shade his eyes, though he knew his brother could read the intent behind the words.

"We will be home every so often, Mrs. Hudson's wedding gift makes it nearly impossible for us to abandon Baker Street and London completely."

"I had nothing to do with it, except to direct her to a good real estate person. It was always her intention that you and John would own Baker Street. You two have always been the sons she never had."

Sherlock nodded, and he fell quiet again for a moment. "You do know I'm happy you and Vi are here, don't you? And you are always welcome. You and Vi deserve a place where you can let your hair down, so to speak."

"You and John have made it very clear that you want us here. It means more to me than you will ever know, Sherlock. Thank you for making Vi part of your family -"

"Our family, Myc. Our family. It has taken us far too long to understand that we are a family, and though it has been growing exponentially lately, by marriage and friendship, we are the ones who have to hold the center. Do you know what I mean?"

Mycroft finally removed his hat and met his brother's intense, questioning gaze head on. "Yes, Sherlock. I do understand. I just never though we could ever meet at this place; I don't mean this island, I mean -"

"I know what you mean, Myc. I do. You have always meant so much to me, even when it was hard, ok, impossible for me to communicate that to you. It has only been recently that I felt I could honestly love other people without believing it could only end in pain. When I almost lost you, I realised I had to tell you, let you know -"

Mycroft reached for his brother and wrapped his arms around him. "I've always known, Sherlock, always. I never gave up hope that I would see you happy one day. I've only ever wanted your happiness."

 

Vi stood at the doorway with a glass of wine in her hand. "We are truly fortunate souls to be loved by those two idiots."

"Yes, Vi, we are, indeed." John draped his arm around Vi's shoulder and she leaned against him.

"This place, John. It's magical. To see Myc so content, so happy -"

"I know. I think it has truly healed us." He reconsidered his words. "No, not healed, exactly, it has allowed us to accept that we are ok as we are, lovable as we are, without having to change who we are, we are enough as is. I never felt that before I came here. I rediscovered my joy here, and I discovered how much I loved him. I finally understood what we meant to each other, our hearts weren't meant to be separated; they never truly were, it was just that we were too afraid to look too closely..."

"Yes. Myc and I had always done that in the past. I thought I had seen all of his sides, all of the parts he had so neatly buried - today, I finally met him, all of him. All of the walls finally fell away, and I fell in love again, hard."

John nodded. "Happens to me all the time, Vi." He grinned as he watched Sherlock and Mycroft run into the sea together, hand in hand, laughing as if time had suddenly turned backward, and they became the children they were never allowed to be.

John and Vi stood still, afraid to break the spell, then Sherlock caught John's eye. "I'm starving, is there anything we can munch before I fall asleep in your arms?"

"Bread and figs and..."

"Olives?"

"Yes, love and..."

"Cherries?"

"Of course." John smiled at him as Mycroft surprised Sherlock from behind, pulling him under.

Sherlock sputtered as he resurfaced. "Traitor."

"I know, but you love me anyway."

"Madly."

"Come inside, you two, time to eat." Vi laughed happily as the two drenched figures dragged themselves to the door to receive towels and kisses. "Idiots."


	8. Many Thanks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "'To a great mind, nothing is little,' remarked Holmes, sententiously." -Arthur Conan Doyle

Sally had stopped and was gazing through the window at the odd collection of antique, handcrafted toys. She couldn't help but laugh. "Look at that marionette, Al. It looks like Myc. It's even wearing a little suit. But Myc would never wear short pants... Al?" She glanced around and realized she was alone.

"Oh god." Rolling her eyes, Sally made her way over to the sweets shop across the street. "Exasperating man child." She stood with her arms crossed over her chest, grinning as she watched Andy fill a small paper bag through the window. He completed his purchase, and laughed when he realized he'd been caught.

"All these amazing shops, and this is the one you gravitate to. Why am I not surprised?" Sally bumped his shoulder with hers and then kissed his cheek. "Find anything good?"

"My favorites," Andy handed her the bag and she scrunched her face at the mix of sour things. "Want some?"

"Ugh. No Thanks." She shoved the bag back into his hands. "Could've picked something actually good."

"Hey!" He feigned insult, but then winked and produced a second bag. "Sweets for my sweet?"

"Stop that. God that was awful." Sally laughed as she peered into the bag full of dark chocolate covered coffee beans. "Oh, you do love me." She kissed him on the cheek again and then popped two in her mouth.

"Fickle."

"Cheeky bastard." They both giggled and Andy pulled her to him and kissed her soundly.

"Coffee. Doesn't really go with sour does it?"

"Idiot." She laughed and kissed him again.

"Hey, there are children around you know." Suddenly Greg was there, standing entirely too close.

"Damn it," Andy jumped.

"God, Molly. Could you keep him under control for just five minutes?" Sally shoved Greg away and turned to find her friend. Molly was flanked on either side by two small boys holding tight to her hands. "Well, who's this then?"

"Do you remember Sherlock and John telling us about Alex and Niko?"

"Oh, look at you two." Sally grinned as the boys studied her intently. Alex's eyes darted quickly between her and Andy, assessing them, but Niko slowly let go of Molly's hand and took a few steps nearer Sally.

"Are you..." Taking another step, Niko whispered, "are you Sally?"

Caught completely off her guard, Sally's breath caught and she looked to Molly with wide eyes. Molly smiled her sweet, deceptively innocent smile, and nodded to her. "Y-yes. I am. It's nice to meet you Ni-"

Sally was cut short and knocked back a step as Niko threw his arms around her waist. Face buried in her side, he was speaking in Greek and talking too fast for her to understand. Desperate, she looked up to Greg.

"He's thanking you for saving his doctor John's life," Greg whispered with a genuinely warm smile.

"Oh..." Sally breathed and tentatively placed a hand on Niko's hair. "I..." She swallowed hard and shook her head. Andy stood next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"Breathe, love." Andy whispered into her ear. Sally nodded.

Alex stepped up to Sally then and took her free hand in both of his. He looked up at her with glistening eyes and kissed her hand. "You will be αγαπημένες φίλο... Uhm, friend of our hearts," he laid one hand over his own heart and bowed his head, "πάντα. Forever."

"John is... he's my friend. It was an easy choice. A small thing."

Alex shook his head. "No. No, it was very big. You are γενναίος. Ένας ήρωας."

"Brave. A hero," Greg translated.

Drawing a sharp breath, Sally blinked back tears and nodded. "Come 'ere." She pulled Alex to her to join Niko in the hug, and kissed the tops of their heads. "Thank you," she whispered, and all her attempts to keep the tears at bay were forgotten.

"C'mon boys," Molly mussed their hair. "Let's go see if dinner is ready, yeah?"

Niko nodded against Sally’s side, and leaned back to look up at her. Eyes wide and brimming with tears, he motioned for her to lean down. He whispered, "ευχαριστώ," in her ear and kissed her cheek with a shy blush.

"My friend," Sally smiled as she took his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> αγαπημένες φίλο - cherished friend
> 
> ευχαριστώ - thank you


	9. Old Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “…but it is better to learn wisdom late than never to learn it at all.”  
> -Arthur Conan Doyle

John had long ago escorted his exhausted husband to bed, and Vi was waiting for Mycroft to join her. After some time, she sighed, got out of bed and found him seemingly lost in a book.

"I've already sent you in search of reading materi- Myc, love, what is it?" Her voice changed when she saw his face as he looked up at her. She rarely saw tears in his eyes, and never had she seen him as moved as he was at that moment. His voice caught as he returned his gaze to the letter in his hand.

"She knew, about you, that some day, I would find someone - I was remembering the books I loved to read when we were here, my favourite was this old book of fairy tales, Ioanna had given it to me when she knew I could read...I was three...it's in Greek, but I was quite decent at picking up languages even then - anyway. Mum, she, hmm, slipped two letters into this book, last time we were here. One is for me and one is for you."

Vi moved closer to him, sat in front of his chair and waited.

 

"My Dear Mycroft -

I know these trips bore you dreadfully, but, someday, in the future, you will want a place to bring your bride. Yes. You will be married to someone who is strong enough, patient enough and wise enough to find the brilliant, loving man that I know you will become, buried under all of that proper poshness. She will discover the man you were always meant to be.

This is our last trip here for some time, as in a few months time, you will be a big brother. I know you will love him, or her, as the case may be. It will mean great changes for you and for our family, but know that it will not change our great love for you. I know we aren't the most demonstrative people, but I think you know how we treasure you, your loving heart, your spirit, your curiosity, and of course your brilliant mind; you understand so much, already. I just worry you will forget about the big heart you possess. Don't forget, lovely boy..."

 

Vi watched his face change and she recalled the few times she had encountered her late mother-in-law; flashing hazel eyes missed nothing, and a couple of times, Vi had an idea that she had almost broken her natural reticence and invited her to tea, or something a bit stronger, but something held her back. She seemed to know when to interfere and when to let time take its natural course, especially when it came to her sons. For a moment, Vi wondered what would have happened if she had spoken up, just once, and the regrets for time lost clouded her eyes, then she took a deep breath and let it go as Mycroft placed a cream coloured envelope into her hand. She was amazed at how something so light felt so enormous. She took another breath, and was aware of opening a small window into the past; scents of his mother's lavender and tea and old books merged together.

 

My Dear-

If you are reading this, you are a very unusual and I'm assuming patient woman of many talents and gifts. You would have to be in order to win over the man you have chosen to take as your husband. I am writing to you as a woman who wants her son to be loved and cherished; he is but six, he would claim 'six and a half, Mummy' of course, but I can already see a long, lonely road before he finds you, finds his home. I know there is someone for him. I have the feeling I will not be there on your wedding day or to hold my grandchild, but I also have the feeling that some day I will meet you and know. I will know you, in the way you look at him, the way he responds to you, I will see and know that he is loved; I hope he knows how lucky he is that you waited for him. My son, even now at this early age, can be quite perversely deliberate. You may want to ask him one day how long it took him to realise his favourite ice cream was vanilla; he always spends fifteen minutes debating over flavours, sampling this and that, and always ends up with vanilla. I believe this bodes well for you, as once he has committed to something, so far as I have known him, he has stuck to it.

Much love to both of you -  
Mum

 

Included in the envelope was a snap of a young Mycroft sitting in an oversized chair, reading what appeared to be a encyclopaedia of some sort. He seemed so young, his legs were crisscrossed but she could see the tiny white socks, the well polished shoes...

"Vi?" Mycroft brought her back to the present gently. She shook her head and blew out the breath she had been holding.

"I wish I had really known her, Myc. I hope she did know, even though what I felt for you was nothing compared to what we have now, I hope she saw at least that respect and fondness I have always had for you. I wish -"

"Oh, Vi - I do too. She did know. I could tell, honestly. She liked you very much, she was always afraid of interfering, and I think after 'meddling' with Sherlock and John, she was wary of stepping in again."

"I wish she had, and yet, I am glad, so glad that we were truly ready for everything - and we did have those years together, just not in the way..."

"Hmmm?"

"The way we were this afternoon..."

"This afternoon? I may need a reminder...it was a few hours ago..." He smiled into her eyes and she shook her head, wondering at what this man could do to her with just his eyes and words.

"Remember this?" She kissed him long and hard, and it felt as if she was kissing him for the first time again. She pulled back and looked at him, and she knew they were both changed again.

"No. No, Vi, I would have remembered that, love."

"I know. It's this place." She kissed him again and felt him tremble. "Love?" She watched him carefully as he held her in his strong arms.

"No, Vi. It's you. I don't know what I ever did to deserve you, but, I'm so damned lucky."

"We both are very lucky, my heart."

"Take me to bed, Vi?" 

She got up and offered him her hand, he took it and she led him silently to their room and closed the door.


	10. A Toast!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What you do in this world is a matter of no consequence. The question is what can you make people believe you have done.” -- Arthur Conan Doyle

John had tried to warn them. He had. He'd explained that mealtime with Ioanna and Andreas would never be _just dinner,_ but an event. An _occasion._

It was not an exaggeration.

Andreas spotted their happy little party laughing down the street, and motioned for them to join him. He had liked them all instantly, this unique family that his adopted sons had built for themselves. Between them all, so much life had been lived; it was clear there had been deep sorrows and unimaginable hurts, but just as evident were the great joys and the undeniable love. None of them seemed the type to fit together easily, but somehow they had. Like a beautiful mosaic, at once fragile, yet stronger than each piece individually had been before. He knew before long these new friends would be more sons and daughters. His Ioanna, βασίλισσα του, καρδιά του, had known, had seen them in a dream. Andreas couldn't help but laugh with them; his heart swelled with happiness as he watched their antics. 

Greg was teasing Andy -- not mean spiritedly -- the younger man taking it in stride. Andy was pointing to things and asking for the Greek interpretation. With his limited knowledge of the language, he had realized early on that despite the fact that Greg's handle on the language was a bit rusty, he was intentionally teaching him the wrong words. By the time Greg tried to convince him the word for cat was actually something naughty (but not too naughty, as two young boys were watching them with rapt attention; Niko biting his lower lip and trying not to laugh, and Alex with his hand over his mouth), they'd both devolved into fits of giggles.

Molly and Sally rolled their eyes and did their best not to laugh at the the over-grown boys, even as they allowed two perfectly gentlemanly real boys to escort them to dinner. Niko held tight to Sally's hand, Alex held on to Molly's. They stopped once in their procession, and Niko whispered to a man closing up his flower cart. The man smiled and nodded, and soon Niko and Alex were presenting Molly and Sally with brightly colored bundles of wildflowers. The boys were thanked with smiles and kisses, while Greg and Andy feigned jealousy. 

"My friends, welcome!" Andreas urged them on with his energetic waving. "Come, come. Dinner is ready!" He ushered them all into the courtyard behind his restaurant. 

The too large table in the too tiny kitchen of his own home would not do to accommodate these dear friends. He and Timótheos had arranged some of the tables in the courtyard into one larger table, so they could all sit around it together. Ioanna had pulled out her fine table cloths, as well as her best candlesticks. The center of the tables was heaped with more food than they could imagine eating.

"A small family dinner," Ioanna greeted each of them with kisses and a hug. "Tomorrow. Tomorrow when our boys come for lunch, and Myc and his Violet, then. Then we will have a true feast."

"Dear god, what is this then?" Sally couldn't help but laugh as Ioanna pulled her into a tight embrace. 

"This? This is nothing. Dinner shared amongst Φίλοι is all." Ioanna kissed Sally's cheek and gave her another hug. 

Greg recognized the σαγανάκι, and a few other dishes from his childhood spent with his ya-ya. "I think I'm in love with you," he sighed and showered Ioanna's cheeks with kisses.

"Oh, you γελοία άνθρωπος," Ioanna laughed and swatted Greg away. "I only made the bread and the μπακλαβά. Andreas and Timótheos did everything."

"I knew I liked you!" Greg turned and threw his arms around Andreas, then kissed his cheek. He turned and did the same to Timótheos, declaring, "Αδελφός!"

Molly buried her face in her hands and groaned.

"Ah, do not fret over him so much, my dear," Ioanna took her hands and guided her toward the table. "He is the very image of my Andreas when he was young. It is good to let him be so, you will always know joy in your home. We have had joy in our home for so long..."

"Since the beginning of time," Timótheos winked as he arranged plates on the table.

"Hush, you!" Ioanna laughed. "But it's true, we are αρχαίος... Ancient."

"No!" Sally covered her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

"No, it really is true," Ioanna smiled fondly at Andreas. "I think the gods formed him from the very earth. This island, it pulses in his veins."

"And you, αγάπη μου, desended from the stars," Andreas swept Ioanna's hand up and placed a gentle kiss on top. There was nothing for it, Molly and Sally both sighed. Alex and Niko rolled their eyes.

"Old man's got game," Greg whispered a little too loudly. Andy elbowed him hard in the side, but Andreas simply laughed.

"I have had a lot of practice."

Ioanna laughed. "Do not let him fool you. He is a romantic at heart. Never a day goes by that he does not quote poetry to me. Sometimes it is terrible, but it is poetry all the same." She kissed his cheek.

"Shakespeare for that one," Molly smiled mischievously and pointed at Greg.

"Et tu, Brute?*" Greg stumbled as if he were wounded. "You would betray the secrets of our intimacy?"

"Children!" Molly hissed and fumbled to cover Alex's ears with her hands. Greg looked slightly mortified, though no one truly believed him. Alex and Niko just giggled, finding these friends of Sherlock and γιατρός John very entertaining.

Sally cleared her throat. "Cheesy love songs... And he sings bad pop songs to his fern. Ferdinand the fern."

"So what if I do?" Andy grinned, pulled Sally to him and started singing...

** _I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish,_  
_I'll be your fantasy._  
_I'll be your hope, I'll be your love,_  
_be everything that you need._  
_I love you more with every breath,_  
_truly madly deeply do..._

"Stop. Stop, stop, stop..." Sally was giggling uncontrollably.

"It's lovely, my boy. You can sing here any time you like," Ioanna patted Andy's arm.

Andy smirked at Greg. "She didn't invite you to quote Shakespeare."

"Do not mock the bard," Greg crossed his arms over his chest.

"Don't worry, love. You can recite Shakespeare to me any time you like." Molly took Greg's hand, and led him to the table. She looked from Ioanna to Andreas. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't know much of customs... Is there an order to where we sit?"

Ioanna laughed, "My dear, we are family here. How would you approach a table with your own family?"

"Oh god," Greg groaned as Molly hip checked him.

"With _my_ brothers? Like that." Molly smiled innocently as she took the chair Greg had reached for. Ioanna and Andreas both laughed.

"Well, that works!" Andreas dropped into the seat next to Molly, edging Greg out of the way. They all scrambled for chairs, laughing and trying not to curse for the sake of young ears. Breathless from laughter Andreas raised his glass, and toasted his new friends, and their future together.

Ioanna and Timótheos started out serving the food, but soon they were all passing and sharing, and insisting "you just have to try this."

Molly convinced Niko and Alex to tell Sally and Andy the story of how γιατρός John rescued Niko, but only after the boys made them promise that the story (the abridged and censored version) of how Sally, and Andy (Sally was insistent), had saved γιατρός John's life at Baskerville would also be told. Then Greg told every embarrassing, mostly appropriate, story about Sherlock and John he could think of, and Ioanna told tales of Mycroft as a small boy.

They ate and drank and laughed and even sang a bit, until long after the little boys had been reluctantly called away by their mamas, and the stars were boldly, brightly visible above the courtyard.

"It's no wonder they came back here," Sally mused as she looked up at the infinite night sky.

"God I'm going to miss them. And not just working the cases together. I'm going to miss those two idiots. My friends." Greg sighed, "Brothers, more like." He slid into the chair Alex had vacated, next to Molly. She nodded and took his hand, even as she blinked back tears.

"None of that, now." Ioanna passed Molly a clean napkin. "Things may be changing, but you are not saying goodbye to them." She cast a knowing smile around the table. "Your futures are woven together. All of you. And now that you have found us here, dear ones, you will always have a place among us. Especially since you love our boys so well."

Andreas raised another toast. "To friends. To family. To home, love, and forever."

 

* * *

 

Sherlock stirred awake at the sound of hushed voices beyond their bedroom door. He checked the time. Myc and Vi were still up. He considered checking on them, but neither of them sounded distressed. 

Sherlock thought perhaps they were discussing Mycroft's childhood trips to the island. Or maybe they were discussing their plans for procreation -- neither Myc nor Vi had mentioned it, but Sherlock knew they'd been discussing their plans. Maybe it was body language, maybe it was a dream, he couldn't quite pin point... What he did know was that once he'd had the thought, he wanted nothing more than a little niece or nephew, probably a niece first, to teach and spoil. And John, god, John would be brilliant with a baby.

Sherlock swallowed hard. John _would_ be brilliant as an uncle. He'd have been a spectacular father. Did he... would he have regrets? He sighed and wrapped his arms more tightly around John. He watched his heart, his other half, sleeping; he was dreaming. Sherlock could see it in his expressive face, John was smiling. Something happy, no nightmares...

"And you say my thinking is too loud," John mumbled as he ran gentle fingers through Sherlock's curls. "Go back to sleep, love."

"How do you feel about children?"

"What? Sherlock..."

"Did you ever want..."

"I like Niko and Alex. Other people's kids, so I can spoil them, be a bad influence, and then send them away." John yawned and shifted so that Sherlock could rest more comfortably with his head against his shoulder. "What's all this about?"

"I think Myc and Vi may be considering having a baby, and I just..."

John hummed in understanding and yawned again. "Good for them. They aren't having it tonight are they?"

Sherlock huffed a laugh. "Of course not."

"Good," John pulled Sherlock closer. "Sleep now, love. You can work out the logistics of us kidnapping and keeping our future niece or nephew tomorrow."

"Niece. Definitely a niece."

"Hmmm. Yeah. A niece," John mumbled against Sherlock’s hair as he started to drift off again. "Sleep," he whispered.

"I love you, καρδιά μου."

"mhmmloveyou..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> βασίλισσα του, καρδιά του - his queen, his heart
> 
> Φίλοι - friends
> 
> σαγανάκι - saganaki - fried cheese appetizer
> 
> γελοία άνθρωπος - ridiculous man
> 
> μπακλαβά - baklava
> 
> Αδελφός - Brother
> 
> αγάπη μου - my love
> 
>  
> 
> *"Julius Caesar," William Shakespeare. Act III, Scene I
> 
>  
> 
> **"Truly, Madly, Deeply," by Savage Garden


	11. Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The public, not unnaturally, goes upon the principle that he who would heal others must himself be whole.”  
> -Arthur Conan Doyle

Ioanna was already awake when Andy quietly shut the bedroom door behind him, and walked into the warm kitchen. She turned from the window and nodded at the coffee pot, offering without breaking the silence. He smiled and sat at the table.

"Morning person?" She asked, as she set a cup of coffee in front of him and pushed the bowl of sugar towards him.

"Of a sort." Andy dumped three heaping spoonfuls of sugar into his cup and took a deep breath in before taking a sip.

"Bad dreams."

"When I sleep. It's gotten better since I met -"

"your other half." Ioanna nodded knowingly as she drank her coffee. "Yes, it's that obvious."

Andy looked down into his cup and shook his head. "I didn't know there was someone -"

"who could understand your scars?"

Andy sighed and stirred his coffee. "I thought I had hidden everything so well, then I met her, and she tore everything down, every wall, every defense I had, and then she almost died in my arms - I had known her only a couple of days, and my world screeched to a dead stop. I had never felt anything like it - I could barely breathe until I knew she would be okay. I never thought - I believed I was okay, I had a good job, I functioned within -"

"normal parameters?"

Andy laughed. "I thought it was enough until I met these people; these brilliant, passionate people...I saw them sacrifice so much for one another, how they love each other...to be counted in their number is something I still find hard to understand at times."

"They recognise a kindred spirit, Andy -"

"How? I'm not special. I don't have their -"

"Your heart is what makes you special. It isn't Sherlock's gift for deduction that makes John love him, it isn't John's courage that makes Sherlock cherish him. Their hearts belong together, always have, just as you belong to Sally and -"

"I belong to you, love." Sally ruffled Andy's hair and kissed his cheek. "Any coffee left for me? Smells heavenly."

 

"Damn." Mycroft bolted straight up from a nightmare; a mix of rescuing Sherlock, but too late, Vi dying in his arms, and his mum's slow wasting away. Vi was still sleeping peacefully at his side, so he slid out of bed and threw on his running clothes. Perhaps a run would help reboot his system. He walked into the small sitting room to find John staring out at the sea.

"Mornin' - would you care for a cuppa? I just put the kettle on. This morning, it was Sherlock falling and then Moran finishing him off for real. It will take some time before we will adjust to actually being safe."

"Yes, I'd love a cup. I thought once we were married-" Mycroft's thought went unfinished.

"I had thought so too. For a while it was worse, more to lose somehow, even though we hadn't changed, not really, but our brains knew better. Sherlock became even more important simply because I wore his ring and he wore mine, don't know why exactly. I almost felt crippled, I couldn't sleep because I was afraid he would be gone in the morning." John moved to turn off the screaming kettle, he added water to the teapot, then began slicing bread for toast.

"Did you tell him?" Mycroft followed him into the kitchen and leaned against the wall.

"Didn't need to, he knew, he always knows, somehow. We didn't move from our bedroom for a week after the wedding, except when we needed to. He stayed right next to me, held me, listened to me, let me sleep without once complaining of being bored. We turned the phones off - "

"I remember - we almost stormed Baker Street but calmer heads prevailed."

"You mean Molly, Vi and Donovan."

"Exactly, they knew you needed time. And, Mrs. Hudson knew you were okay -"

"Of course." John sighed and poured out the tea. "All I can tell you is don't hide it from her. I know she deals with a lot of the similar stuff, just be there for her, and let her be there for you. But a run isn't a bad idea, mind some company?"

"Not at all."

 

Sherlock woke up and tried to remember where and when he was. It wasn't the rooms Holmes shared with Watson, nor their own flat on Baker Street. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and tried again. Not London, they were home. Home. He threw on his robe and padded into the kitchen, where he found a note by the still warm teapot.

S & V- 

M and I are out for a run to clear out the cobwebs, back soon. I love you.

-J

Sherlock shook his head in amusement, poured himself a cup of tea and stood at the window, watching the world swirl quietly in front of him. It would take time for them all to adjust to the gentle peace after all the changes and chaos from the last few months.

"Did you sleep well?" Vi had slipped into the room silently, trying not to disturb him, then helped herself to tea, and joined him at the window.

"Yes, for a while, but John had nightmares early this morning. I can always tell. He knows I know, he'll tell me later if it will help him to get through it, but I always know what it is he's fighting - if I could take it on, take it away - I would in a moment."

"I know. Myc still wakes up some mornings thinking I'm dead; not quite as often anymore, but since we got married, the nightmares have come back more intensely, they are very real. Too real."

Sherlock nodded, then draped his arm around her shoulder. "It will get better, I've learned that our past is always there, it comes up stronger, when there are big changes, like getting married, or this move, as much as he wanted it. I know it will be a while before he can sleep through the night here, but, it will get better. It is-"

"what it is?" Vi leaned into him and smiled as she saw their two exhausted husbands collapse onto the sand.

"Exactly." Sherlock sighed as he watched John and his brother struggle to a sitting position. "Idiots," he muttered to himself. He walked to the door and yelled, "Showers! We have a feast to attend later, you'll have to be able to walk!" He laughed as John and Mycroft turned and glared at them, and promptly collapsed backwards into the sand.


	12. Extraordinary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "From the first day I met her, she was the only woman to me." - Arthur Conan Doyle

"Come back to bed," Molly mumbled. She scooted into the warm spot Greg had just vacated and looked up at him with sleep blurred eyes. Her hair was mussed just so. She yawned and smiled up at him from the cacoon of blankets and pillows.

God. He loved this woman. _Love._ He did. With his entire being. He'd never truly loved his ex, never dreamed he'd ever find... this. Perfection.

He'd known he was in love with Molly for ages, in his heart he'd known. He'd told her as much, said all the words. She'd said it back. He'd lost track of the total. But this, the overwhelming surge he felt as he looked down on this brilliant, unique, beautiful, extraordinary woman was unlike anything he'd felt before.

"Molly..." He barely managed a whisper. " _Molly._ I..." He closed his eyes. Tears? Why tears? Damn it.

"Greg? Love?" Molly started to sit up, but before she had the chance, Greg knelt on the bed next to her and gingerly brushed the wild tangle of hair back from her face.

"Damn, Molly." Greg breathed. He couldn't stop himself from staring into the soft brown eyes, almost golden in warmth, and open wide in wonder. Eyes that were at once teeming with life and love, and in an instant fiery with passion. Eyes that could see into his very core, the heart and soul of him.

"Greg, what..." He stopped her words with a slow, tender kiss.

"Greg..." She panted.

"Molly. I love you."

"I love you too," she smiled and cupped his face with her hand.

"No... no. You don't understand. I love you." He pleaded with his own eyes, needing her to see. He slid her hand down to cover his racing heart. "I _love_ you."

"Oh..." She inhaled sharply. "Greg."

"I- I need..." He huffed a breath, exasperated at his own inability to communicate his emotions. "Fuck..."

"Greg, breathe love. What? What do you need? Anything. I'll do anything. Give anything. Be anything. What do you need, love?"

"Forever," he managed to rasp.

"For- forever?" Molly whispered, the corner of her mouth quirked into a tiny smile.

"Forever. If you... Will you?" He bowed his head as in prayer. If he were honest, in the deepest recesses of his heart, he was begging any deity within hearing to show him kindness in that by some miracle, the divine, worthy of all adoration, Romilly Leonora Hooper would show him mercy and promise him eternity.

He looked up when he could stand her silence no longer, fearing the worst. He couldn't stop the tumble of words. "We haven't talked about it. We don't have to. Oh god. Bloody hell, I don't even have a ring. I was going to get one while we were here. I'm sorry. It's fine. We don't have to... Just forget..."

"Greg.... _Greg._ " Molly pushed herself up to sitting. "Shut up for a minute. Please, love."  She took both of his hands into hers.

"Molly. _Please..._ "

She took her time in kissing each of his knuckles, paying extra care to his ring finger. "Forever." She whispered with a slight nod.

"Wh- yeah?"

"Yes," she giggled. "Idiot." He leaned forward and kissed her again, with the same gentle care. "You ruin everything, you know," she mumbled against his lips.

"Hmmm?" He leaned back, perplexed.

"Wait." She climbed out of bed and went to dig through her carry-on and returned a moment later with a small velvet box in her hand.

"Oh god. The mischief..."

"I had plans for you, Gregory Lestrade."

He groaned as she knelt in front of him and kissed him deeply. "What kind of..."

"Plans on the beach, in a cove John told me about."

"Yeah?"

"You would've been finding sand for weeks..."

"Shit. Molly... We can still..."

"But it won't be the same." She sighed.

"But, yes it can. Why... why won't it..."

Molly held up the little black box with the black and gold titanium ring. She smiled deviously. "Greg Lestrade, will you marry me?"

Huffing a laugh that was also half sob, Greg nodded and and pulled Molly into a tight embrace. "Forever, love. Forever and always."

"No Shakespeare for this momentous occasion?" Molly giggled into his shoulder.

"Take me to that cove, and you can have all the Shakespeare you want."

"Mmmm. After lunch."

"Damn. Lunch. Should we see if Andreas needs help?"

"Probably." Molly nodded as she tumbled Greg back against the pillows. He opened his mouth to retort, and she stopped him with a line of kisses along his jaw.

"Eh... yeah... He'll be fine." Greg chuckled. "It's early yet."

"Greg?" Molly mumbled against his neck.

"Yes, love?"

"Shut up and kiss me."

"Yes, love."

 

* * *

 

"All right, up you get." Sherlock held his hands out to Mycroft. With Violet's help they managed to get him to his feet.

"You are a cruel task master, John Watson." Mycroft groaned.

John laughed. "I only followed your pace, Myc." He stretched his legs out in front of him.

"But you set the course." Myc's smile turned to a  wince as he took a few limping steps. With attention drawn to it, they were all reminded of what had been suffered.

John pursed his lips. "Myc..."

"You forgot the injury. That is possibly the greatest gift you could ever give me." Mycroft bowed slightly in John's direction. "A sure sign of healing. For us all. Thank you, John, sincerely." John nodded.

"C'mon love. Let's get you a bath." Vi took his hand and kissed his cheek. She was tempted to wrap her arm around him and offer him her support. Though she knew Myc would accept the gesture, it would be a blow to his ego. So, she stayed by his side, and let him set their pace to the house.

"Damn it." John muttered and scrubbed his hand down his face.

"Don't." Sherlock shushed him as he sat behind him and pulled John back to lean against his chest. "You heard him. He thanked you."

"He pushed too hard. I didn't think..."

"You've met Mycroft."

John chuckled. "Yeah. Stubborn." He looked back at Sherlock. "Family trait?" He shivered despite himself when Sherlock placed a single kiss on the back of his neck. "Sherlock, no. I'm sweaty and gross."

Sherlock kissed him again and hummed contentedly.

"I used to hate running in the sand, but if this is what it gets me now..."

Sherlock chuckled and held him more tightly. "John," he breathed against his neck.

"I'm okay, καρδιά μου."

"Do you want to talk about..."

John shook his head. "Nothing new," he sighed. "Can we just..." He relaxed back into Sherlock's chest and entwined his own fingers with Sherlock's.

Sherlock rested his chin on John's shoulder and held his love close as they watched the water swirl against the shore.


	13. Respite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It is, of course, a trifle, but there is nothing so important as trifles.”   
> -Arthur Conan Doyle

There were moments when Sherlock allowed himself to reflect upon the man who now rested in his arms; he tried not to overthink about John, there was never anything logical about how and what they were, and to attempt to fully comprehend why they were...Sherlock chuckled and kissed John's neck.

"Hmmmm?" John murmured then groaned as he tried to turn in Sherlock's arms.

"Just thinking." Sherlock ran his fingers across John's still slightly heaving chest, and they took a breath together. "All of my life I've been able to dissect, analyse and understand almost everything I've ever put my mind to. Except you. You -" He placed his nose into John's hair and closed his eyes. "are my final mystery, love. I'll never be able to solve you - nor will I ever want to." John sighed as Sherlock found that one spot that short-circuited any thought or movement or thought of movement. "I'll never know what forces made us what we are -" he moved his hands lower and grinned into John's sweat dampened hair as he felt John's body respond to his touch. "all that matters to me is that we are here now, in this beautiful place together."

"Sherlock - " John turned in Sherlock's arms and his breath caught as he saw the light in his husband's eyes. "Love. Let's go inside?" Sherlock nodded, then sighed as he helped John to his feet, and all but carried him into their room and closed the door behind them.

They stood together, arms gently wrapped around the other, Sherlock's eyes were closed as John looked up at him. "I need you, love."

"I know." Sherlock smiled down at John and kissed him gently. "I know, καρδιά μου."

 

Vi turned on the taps, and began to undress. "Stop, please. Allow me." Mycroft appeared at her shoulder, and she nodded in answer. He turned her gently and finished undressing her, kissed her warmly, then stepped gingerly into the tub, and offered her his hand.

"I'm fine, Vi."

"I know, love, I just -"

"Sometimes I allow myself to forget. I forget how close we were to not being here - I needed to know I could still move, I didn't feel it til we stopped. I promise, Vi."

She stepped into the steamy water, and took a deep breath before she sat in front of him. She looked into his eyes and saw her life in them, could see everything she ever wanted.

"Myc."

"I just want to feel whole again, Vi. I want to be whole for you and for our child, our children, I don't want them to remember their father -"

"Love, slow down. It's just you and me for now."

"But, the dreams, last night, Vi - they were so real, I could see them, see you, see us, a family. Damn. Vi, love. If it never happens for us, you are, you will always be everything. Every thing to me. You have to know that."

"I do, Myc. The thing is - I had the same dream last night. Just promise me, promise me you'll take things slower? You have nothing to prove to me, or to anyone."

"I promise, Vi."

 

Sherlock helped John into bed, then removed his robe and laid next to him. "Do you remember the first time we slept together in this bed?"

John turned his head and blinked at him, and whispered, "Of course I do, seems so long ago, but it wasn't, and now, I can't imagine how we -"

Sherlock stopped his words with a kiss. "I know, love, I'm sorry I didn't -"

"We weren't ready, it wasn't just you, please, I -"

"Shhhh -" Sherlock straddled John's strong legs and smiled as he looked down at him; he watched John's eyes close and felt his breathing change, it still astonished Sherlock how much even the slightest touch could ease John's mind. He ran his fingers over John's shoulders, amazed that the man below him was his, truly his. He placed a gentle kiss over his heart and John's eyes opened suddenly, and Sherlock felt his own breath stutter. "John."

"Love?"

"I, uhm, will you just hold me for a moment? I need, I - damn, I feel like I'm going to fly apart. I still can't believe we are actually here. Actually home."

"You never need ask me twice, love, you know that, don't you?" John reached out for Sherlock and pulled him against his chest.

"I know, John. I love you so much. I hope you never get tired of hearing me say it to you." Sherlock rested his head against John's strong heartbeat and sighed. "I almost wish we didn't have to move from this bed today. But, needs must, and I am getting a bit peckish."

John laughed. "We have time for a bit of a lie-in. Close your eyes, καρδιά μου, and when we wake up, we can -"

"have a bath?" 

"Yes, love, and then -"

"time to celebrate."


	14. Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Suddenly the dreamer disappeared, and Holmes, the man of action, sprang from his chair." - Arthur Conan Doyle

John stepped into the sitting room at Baker Street, sniffed and blinked, taking in the fact that it was not _quite_ right. The daylight streamed in narrow shafts through the heavy draperies at unnatural angles; the heavy, purposeful furniture casting unearthly shadows as the dust mites danced on sunbeams.

 _Here again._ So familiar, but so different.

"Holmes?"

"Wats- John?" Sherlock watched John for a moment from his chair, partially concealed in the shadows. Shadows. He hadn't remembered this place cast in near darkness before. Previously it was warmly lit, inviting, if not home, then a welcome resting place.

"Καρδιά μου," John's smile was beatific. He sighed as he stepped nearer the sound of his heart. There was a wince, a bit of a limp in his stride.

"My dear man," Sherlock tossed aside the monograph he'd picked up from the side table and rose quickly from his seat to wrap John in his arms.

John's brow creased as he looked up to study the face before him; he gazed into the ethereal grey-green eyes he knew so well. "Sherlock," he breathed and his features soften. "I thought perhaps... when you said..."

Sherlock grinned before stopping John’s words with a tender kiss.

"Definitely you," John whispered.

"Definitely," Sherlock chuckled.

"The old place feels a bit... bleak, yeah?" John shivered and let Sherlock pull him nearer.

Placing a kiss on John's forehead, Sherlock hummed his agreement. "It's unsettling."

"You were reading when I came in. What was it?"

"A study on atrophy. The effects of environmental, social, and economic changes on one's physical and mental state. Fascinating really, an example given of a military man..."

"Sherlock," John wrapped one strong, warm hand around the back of Sherlock's neck. " _Love._ "

"You're limping. Even in a dream."

"Over exertion."

"It must mean something more."

"It means I've gotten lazy these past few months, and I'll be taking up jogging now that I've got scenery worth looking at." John pulled Sherlock down so that their foreheads touched.

"Are you sure about this John? About us, here?"

"Where is this coming from? Are you..." John exhaled deeply, "Do you have doubts now that we're here? Because we can..."

"No! Never. I just..." Sherlock glanced around them.

"I miss it too. Already." John brushed his fingers through Sherlock's hair and wondered why, of all things, Holmes' strict conservative hair style translated into their dreams. He mussed it a bit on principle; Sherlock sighed and leaned into his touch. "But Baker Street is still there. Still ours. For always. For any time we need a reminder."

"A reminder? Why..."

"Where we met again. Where we built and rebuilt ourselves. Where we fell..."

"John-"

"...in love, Sherlock. Where we became more."

Sherlock breathed out a soft "oh" and let John kiss him more soundly than before. "But our cottage is home. We're home. Together."

"Wherever you are, yes, that's my home. But this place, the island, this is where we belong. Yes."

"Yes." Sherlock kissed a gentle trail along John's jaw. "Brilliant John. You are perfect."

"Not so bad yourself," John mumbled as he melted into Sherlock's touch. They both startled as there was a knock on the door. John moved to step away, but Sherlock held him tight. "C'mon, Sherlock. At least let me send them away."

Heaving a great sigh, Sherlock released John. He watched intently as John opened the door, stepped into the hall, and seemed to disappear from sight. He heard no voices, no footfalls, no sign of someone being sent away. And there was nothing to indicate John's intent to return.

"John?" Sherlock waited a beat before rushing, a bit frantic, to the stairwell. There was no evidence anyone had ever been in the stairwell. A thick layer of undisturbed dust lay all about. "John? John, where are you?"

Sherlock dashed up the stairs to John's old room, but it stood barren, an empty packing crate haphazardly tossed in one corner. He stumbled down the steps and into the sitting room. It looked much as it had only moments before, though Sherlock finally realized the decor -- from the drapes to the upholstery on the furnature, even the rugs and the wallpaper -- was in shambles. Utter disarray, as if the place had been long abandoned and forgotten.

"JOHN? Damn it. John!" Another knock then, from where he couldn't tell. He thought he heard John calling to him. "Where are you? Please. John _please._ "

"Sherlock."

A firm touch brushed the side of his face, and sturdy fingers tangled in his hair. Sherlock blinked into the late morning sunshine. "John," Sherlock rasped out.

"Shhh, love. Breathe."

"You left. You- you were gone."

"I'm here. Καρδιά μου, I'm here. I haven't gone anywhere. I'm not going anywhere... except to have a bath."

"You- what?" Sherlock nestled more closely to John's chest, shifting his weight to keep him in place.

"Bath. Vi knocked and said the loo is free." He chuckled. "Lunch, love. With μαμά και παπά, and our friends?"

"Lunch. Right." Sherlock sighed.

"Just a nightmare, love." John kissed the top of Sherlock's head.

"Everything was falling apart..."

"We've made a huge change. Nerves. It's all nerves. We're okay. We're here, together. And no one is going anywhere without anyone else. Yeah?"

Sherlock nodded against John's chest and turned his face up to kiss John's jaw. "I love you."

"Mmm. Love you too, καρδιά μου."

"You said something about a bath?"

"Mhmm. And lunch..."

"You should probably get up then."

"Can't," John chuckled and made a weak attempt at pushing Sherlock off. "Trapped."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I'm not the only one who needs to take up jogging... Ooof..." John laughed as Sherlock flattened himself over top of John with a devious grin.

"C'mon boys," Violet knocked a bit sternly on their door. 

"Yes, mum," Sherlock called out. John covered his face and snorted.

"Funny. Don't make me come in there. I'll do it." 

"I don't think she's joking," John whispered, fighting giggles.

"I'm not," Vi retorted.

"Fine... fine." Sherlock grinned as he rolled off the bed, scooped up his robe, and dramatically swung it around himself. 

"Damn, love." John pushed himself up with a groan.

Sherlock held out his hand, "Come, καρδιά μου. Bath, then lunch."

John took Sherlock's hand and kissed his palm. "Together, yeah?"

"Together," Sherlock whispered. "Always."


	15. Before the Feast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It is introspective, and I want to introspect.”   
> -Arthur Conan Doyle

Vi tapped her foot impatiently as she looked at her phone again. "We will be late."

Mycroft paid her no mind as he stared out their bedroom window. 

"Myc. It's almost noon." She sighed and wrapped her arms around him and kissed his neck.

"Hmmm?"

"Noon. Lunch? People waiting? Village. Greece?"

"Oh. We could get there at three and there will still be newcomers arriving. This is a welcoming party. I remember parties that went for days as a child. Time is different here, Vi. I was too young to appreciate that when we would visit, but I can recall my mother - so happy here; she would sing, she had a beautiful voice, and she would sing for hours for the village. I'd fall asleep in my father's lap before she was ready to go home. She loved it here, so much." He turned in her arms and sighed. "But I am hungry, and I suppose I should let you become acclimated to your new environment."

She grinned and kissed him again. "I'll try not to be a party pooper."

"You never could be that, love. They will adore you; Ioanna will take one look at you and put a plate full of food in front of you, and make sure you eat it all, Andreas will make you his daughter on the spot, and I'll have to fight off the eligible men of the village with a large stick."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not. I'll just have to dance with you all day."

"Oh, will you now?" Vi glanced into his darkening eyes and she blinked.

"Mhmmm."

"We have a week, Myc. The sooner we leave, the sooner -"

"we can return?"

"Amazing how you can read my mind."

Mycroft wrote a note and left it on the kitchen table.

 

Off to the feast. Don't be too late, but take your time. - M & V

 

Sherlock eyes opened a crack as he heard the door close behind them. "They've gone. Vi is worried about being late." He closed his eyes again as John massaged the shampoo into his hair. "Ioanna will put her to work, she's going to love having a trio of daughters she can dote on, and teach her famous baklava to so it will live on forever."

John nodded, but said nothing, as he continued to wash Sherlock's curls.

Sherlock leaned back further against John's chest and was about to ask what was bothering his husband when John whispered into his hair.

"Nothing. Just thinking."

"About?"

"Everything." John sighed and rinsed Sherlock's hair. "You need a trim already."

"John?"

John wrapped his arms around Sherlock and shook his head. "I finally have time to process everything that has happened since we were here last. So much. I could have - we could have lost everything. We came so close, and yet -"

"Here we are." Sherlock turned in his arms and looked at John. "We are here. Or as your Yoda would say, 'Here are we.' We survived. We did more than that. Think about the people who are with us, think of Myc and Vi, never would I have thought to see him happy, and yet, he is married now, to his equal if not his better; Donovan and Andy? Without them we wouldn't be here, and without them being forced to babysit us, they would never have met; and Molly and G- Greg - they finally figured things out. All of these people found each other because of you."

"Me?" John stared at Sherlock and took a deep breath.

"Yes, love. It was you, who saved me all those years ago; you, who taught me how to love and it was you, who gave the others the courage to love one another as fiercely as you love me."

"Sherlock."

"It's true. You gave all of us such a gift. Now, close your eyes, and let me wash you; then we'll dress and go eat and drink and dance until we can barely stand up. Yes?"

"Yes, love."

 

Sally and Andy had offered to help set up for the feast, but were kindly turned down. "You are guests of honour, tomorrow - tomorrow, I'll put you to work. Today is a day of rest, and eating and dancing - you do dance, yes? Yes, I can see it in the way you touch one another. Now go - come back in a couple of hours, people will begin arriving soon, and they all want to meet the two of you. You are very important to us all - Go!" Ioanna flipped her towel at them and they laughed as they left her kitchen.

Sally leaned against Andy and sighed. "I don't know how to get used to this hero-worship thing."

Andy pulled her against him and shook his head. "It's not that. They just want to thank you for taking care of their loved ones. And, any way, soon, they will know all the stories and you won't have to worry about that 'hero-worship' thing anymore."

She stopped and laughed. "God - I can always depend on you to keep me humble, can't I?"

Andy turned and grinned at her. "Always."

"Always?"

"Mhmmm. Someday, Sally Donovan, I'd like to marry you, I know it's something that scares you, and God knows, it terrifies me, but someday, when we are both ready. I want to -"

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

"Good. Glad that's settled. Now, we have some time, and it's hot enough for swimming -"

"Give me five minutes?"

Andy smiled at her, "The green -"

Sally rolled her eyes at him but nodded. "Yes, the bikini, just for you -"

"I love you."

"Be back soon."


	16. Daughters and Sons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "...and meanwhile take my assurance that the clouds are lifting and that I have every hope that the light of truth is breaking through." -- Arthur Conan Doyle

"Andreas, please. Let me help!" Exasperated, Greg attempted to take the crate loaded with several delicious smelling dishes from his new friend.

"Ah, no. My Ioanna would have a fit if she saw me put our new family to work on your welcoming day." Andreas grinned at Greg. "Besides, I see you recognize these dishes. If I give them to you, you will not share!" He laughed.

"He knows you too well," Molly giggled.

"I've been found out," Greg bowed in concession to Andreas. "There must be something useful we can do?"

Andreas was already hurrying away. "Find Ioanna. She has breakfast waiting on you!"

"Oh god. I'm still full from dinner..." Molly sighed.

"I wonder what she's got. It all reminds me of my childhood, it's been so long..."

"Keep it up and those beautiful trousers aren't going to be any good to you," Molly chuckled and poked Greg hard in the side. He yelped and ducked away from her.

"Just you wait, I know your weaknesses too, you know."

Molly grinned deviously. "Oh you do, do you?"

"I do. And besides," Greg cocked an eyebrow at her, "you like those trousers better on the floor anyway." He started whistling one of the bad pop songs Andy sang at dinner and turned to strut away. Molly grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back.

"There is a certain aesthetic quality, a sort of textile beauty..."

Greg laughed and rolled his eyes. "Rumpled chic?"

"Nailed it." She pulled him into a teasing kiss.

"Don't start something..."

"Ioanna's waiting." Molly grinned again twirled away.

"Tease," Greg chuckled and quickly caught up to her. "Maybe we can convince her to let us help." Greg took Molly's hand and they both stopped and stared down at the new ring between their fingers. He hummed, feeling peace he'd never known. 

"Don't count on it," Andy laughed as he attempted to rush Sally out the door.

"Al!" Sally giggled. "Calm down, love." She stopped him with a kiss and they both blushed when Greg whistled.

"Where are you two off to in such a hurry?" Greg winked.

"The beach..."

"Swimming," Andy added, barely able to contain his excitement. 

"Uh huh. Fan of the beach are we?" Greg eyed them both suspiciously.

"I rather think he's a fan of new green bikinis." Molly giggled as Sally blushed even more furiously.

Sally opened her mouth to retort, then covered her mouth with her hand to contain a happy squeal. "You did it. Oh my god, you asked him. When?" She pried Molly and Greg's hands apart so she could hold up the ring for Andy to see.

"This morning." It was Molly's turn to blush.

"Ah, I believe I asked you first."

"Hmm, no. You asked for forever. I remember distinctly. I'm the one who..."

"Same thing really. Eternal commitment, yeah?"

"Semantics," Molly laughed. "Give it back. I don't think I can live with the likes of you for the rest of my life."

"Never argue with the woman who is willing to buy you pretty things, mate." Elbowing Greg in the side, Andy laughed. 

Greg rolled his eyes and pretended to struggle getting the ring off. "Oh, damn. It's stuck. I guess that means you get me for forever."

"Lucky girl," Sally snorted and hugged Molly tight. "You have my condolences."

"Thanks, Sally," Molly giggled.

"Yeah, congrats, mate," Andy awkwardly stuck his hand out to shake, but Greg pulled him into a hug.

"You're next."

"Heh... Maybe." With a shrug Andy glanced at Sally, who grinned and rolled her eyes.

"All right, don't hurt yourselves thinking about it too hard."

"Well... We..." Andy looked helpless as he stammered.

"You two better get going, before Andy digs himself a hole," Molly giggled, but she smiled knowingly at Sally and hugged her again.

"I'm happy for you, boss," Sally's smile was timid as she took a step toward Greg. 

"Donovan," Greg actually had tears in his eyes.

"Don't." She laughed. "Damn softy." She blinked rapidly and turned her face away. "Got something in my eye."

"Yeah, me too," Greg huffed as he kissed her cheek and wrapped her in a warm embrace. "We made it, Sal. Both of us. Who would've thought?"

"I always knew you'd realize... you know." Sally nodded to Molly. "She makes you happy, you deserve to be happy."

"So do you," Greg looked her in the eye. "You deserve all the happiness this universe has to offer. You know that right?

"I..." Sally ducked her head. "Yeah, I'm learning." She sniffed. "I'm happy for you, Greg. I truly am. You royal pain in the arse."

"I love you too, Sally," Greg laughed and hugged her again.

"Here you are!" Ioanna threw open the door and took in the scene before her with a warm smile and her hands on her hips. "I was beginning to think you... Oh... My dears. Aγαπημένοι!" She kissed Molly's cheeks and wept for joy as she hugged her. "Kόρη μου! My daughter." She turned her attentions to Greg. "Yιος μου. My son..." She clasped her hands in front of her mouth. "My children, you have brought much joy to our home!" She hugged them both again.

"I think..." Andy took Sally's hand. 

"Yeah, we're gonna leave you to it. Get this guy some beach time," Sally winked.

"Go! Go, enjoy!" Ioanna pushed Molly toward the door. "We have much to discuss. But do not forget..."

"Lunch!" Andy called behind him as he pulled a laughing Sally behind him.

"Come," Ioanna grabbed Greg's hand and pulled him into her home. "I will tell you of the dream I had. Of you, my children."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aγαπημένοι - Dear ones


	17. Clarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “For strange effects and extraordinary combinations we must go to life itself, which is always far more daring than any effort of the imagination.”  
> -Arthur Conan Doyle

"Vi. Shut off your phone."

"What?" She sent off one more work related text before she glanced up at him.

"You heard me. We are on holiday, on our honeymoon in fact?" His eyes sparkled at her, but she fought against their charms for some reason, she wasn't quite sure why.

"I never shut off my phone."

"Yes, love, I know; I do seem to recall that Sally had to make you give it to her before our wedding ceremony?"

Vi rolled her eyes but nodded, and turned off her phone as she thought back to that day.

 

"Violet. Give it here. Now."

"Sally..."

"Now, Vi." Vi closed her eyes, took a deep breath and gently placed her phone into her maid of honour's outstretched hand.

"I promise, nothing will happen to it. Breathe, Vi. It will be okay."

"What am I doing, Sally?" She tried to control the tremor in her voice, but failed miserably.

"At the moment? I do believe you are having a slight case of nerves?"

Vi opened her eyes and saw her friend smiling at their reflections in the hallway mirror in Myc's - their flat. "What if I'm terrible at this? At being someone's wife?"

"You're not just becoming someone's wife, Vi. You are marrying Mycroft, your best friend, the person you love and know better than anyone on this crazy planet, and girl, I know you have never failed at anything you put your mind to. I know for a fact that he is just as nervous as you are, all it means is that this is important to both of you."

 

"Why were you nervous?"

"When, love?" Confusion clouded his clear eyes for a moment as he turned to look at her.

"On our wedding day, what were you nervous about?"

"I thought I had hidden it so well, too."

 

"Myc. Mycroft. Brother mine. You are not going to make me come in there, are you?"

"Go away, Sherlock."

"Nope."

"Please? Let me just be."

"I'm coming in whether you like it or not."

Sherlock opened the door to find his brother sitting on the floor, next to the toilet. He shook his head, then removed his coat, hung it on a hanger and sat down next to his brother.

"Breakfast not agree with you?"

"Couldn't eat anything." Mycroft admitted sheepishly. 

"Idiot." 

"Couldn't sleep last night, I missed her too much."

"Wasn't it your idea? To not see each other the night before?"

"Yes. I didn't realise, didn't quite understand -"

"A bit unnerving, isn't it?"

"Overwhelming is the word, I believe."

"You love her, yes?"

Mycroft rolled his eyes.

"I'll take that as an affirmative?"

"You know she loves you more than anything?"

Mycroft shrugged.

"Myc."

"I don't know why, what I did to - I'm afraid that someday -."

Sherlock sighed and whispered, "The why doesn't matter so much, you know."

"No?"

"It's just, it is what it is. Damn. What do you feel when you are searching for her in a crowded room, and your eyes meet?"

"My heart rate -"

"No. What do you feel, Myc?"

"I - uhm - oh. I feel warm and safe and...like my heart will explode. She looks at me like I'm -"

"What, Myc?"

"Like I'm important to her, she knows me and still..."

"Yes?"

"loves me."

"Anything else I can help with?"

"Can you help me get up?"

Sherlock stood up, then gently helped his brother to his feet and pulled him into a quick embrace. "I'm proud to be standing up for you, Myc. You deserve to be happy. You both do."

 

"I was afraid that one day you would stop loving me, because I didn't understand why it was exactly that you did."

Vi knew him well enough to know he wasn't finished with his thought, and waited for him to catch his breath and continue.

"But Sherlock helped me see it in another light, in a way that made it a little less of a mystery. And I also worried that the roof would cave in or London would be overrun by zombies before I got to put a ring on your finger."

"You binge watched Walking Dead because you couldn't sleep the night before, and you ate one, no, two of the leftover cake samples?"

"Guilty as charged, Mrs. Holmes. Whatever will you do with me?"

"I don't know, Mr. Holmes. Probably make you confess your love in the public square in your sweetly mangled Greek? Then make you dance with me for hours...and then..."

"Yes?" Mycroft's eyes twinkled at her.

"Not telling."

"Vi...."

"Nope."

 

John looked down into Sherlock's face for a moment and sighed before he began to trim the errant curls that were falling into his husband's eyes. 

"What?"

"Hmm? Oh. Nothing."

"John?" Sherlock opened one eye and John snorted.

"Why do I even try to keep anything from you?"

"I dunno, why do you?" He closed his eye again and waited patiently.

"It's just odd. I know you, inside and out, and yet, you find ways to surprise me. I think I have you figured out, and then you do or say something, or you make a face I've never seen before, and you just -"

"Just what?"

"You take my breath away. For instance at this very moment, in this light, you just glow, you seem otherworldly, and at times like this, all that matters is you, how I can get closer to you. All I want to do is make you mine all over again."

"John." Sherlock's voice trembled slightly. "We still have time. Ioanna will understand. Please?"

John put the scissors down and kissed him until Sherlock whimpered his name again.

"Yes, love, she will understand if we are a bit late."


	18. Two Halves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the whole of her sex." - Arthur Conan Doyle

Ioanna waved in the direction of her kitchen table. "Sit," she fairly commanded, leaving no room for offers of help.

"Your home is lovely," Molly sighed as she turned in a slow circle, taking in the aged photography, cherished watercolors, and accumulated treasures of two lives well lived as one. There were stacks and stacks of books, and shelves lined with odds and ends -- knickknacks and kitsch really -- none of which seemed to comprise any sort of whole set. Yet it all went together perfectly. Complete. Home. It struck Molly as familiar, almost as if...

"Reminds me of Baker Street," Greg chuckled as he pulled out a chair for Molly.

"It's like you read my mind," she giggled and kissed his cheek before taking the offered seat.

"Ah, you laugh," Ioanna winked at Molly. "Coffee. Strong and black," she set the mug down in front of Greg. "And tea, barely sweet with plenty of milk," she set the cup on a saucer in front of Molly.

"Please don't go to any trouble." Taking a long sip of the coffee Greg closed his eyes and sighed. "Oh god, that's perfect."

"For you, τα παιδιά μου- my children, it could never be an inconvenience." Ioanna smiled and turned back to the kitchen.

"I need to learn how you make this..."

"Μαμά. You must both call me μαμά now, and Andreas παπά," she placed a generous plate in front of each of them.

"Oh," Molly huffed. "I thought lunch was soon. This is... a lot."

Ioanna laughed and pushed the plate nearer. She looked at Greg, who was savoring each bite with relish, and pointed at Molly. "Πολύ λεπτό. Όλοι σας. Do any of you actually eat?"

"Nothing so brilliant as this," Greg laughed and took another bite. "C'mon Mols, it's good."

"I have no doubt," her cheeks colored with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to offend, I just thought... lunch. It's soon, and..."

"My dear, you English are so rigid with time. There is no δρομολόγιο, uhm..."

"Schedule," Greg supplied as he held a bite of something that looked sweet and rich and... amazing up to Molly's lips with his fork.

Relenting, Molly took the bite. "Ohhh, fuck." She covered her mouth, and wide eyed she blushed again. "Sorry. Oh god," she giggled. Greg snorted. "It's very good."

"You," Ioanna pointed at Molly with a wide grin and laugh, "are spirited. A fierce heart. Oh, κόρη μου. You are perfect and lovely." She winked at Greg, "you are perfect together."

"Hmm," Greg hummed in consent and took another long sip of his coffee. "Would you tell us? You said you had a dream..."

"Ναί. Yes, of course." Ioanna poured herself a cup of the strong coffee. She sat across from them and studied first Greg, then Molly, intently. "You have loved one another for many years."

Molly set her fork aside. "Well, we only..."

"Mmm. No. Months, I know. Only months since you've admitted the truth. Just months -- this time. But your hearts knew did they not?"

Greg cast a sidelong glance, and took Molly's hand. "Yeah. Years. But, you said-"

"This time?" Molly whispered.

"My dream... there were, uhm... δύο μισά της μιας καρδιάς."

"Two halves of one heart," Greg whispered to Molly. She drew in a deep breath and nodded.

"δύο ημίχρονα, searching. Searching and searching. Longing. The two halves circled around each other, reaching out. At times the spirited half," Ioanna reached for one of Molly's hands, "and the passionate half," she took one of Greg's, "would push each other away, convinced they needed something more. But sometimes, oh... The two halves would meet and there would be ενότητα. Perfect unity. Love so beautiful I've seldom seen." She joined their two hands and clasped her hands around them.

"In your dream, we've met before?" Eyes wide with wonder, Molly's voice was barely above a whisper.

"You are surprised, but not doubting." Ioanna squeezed their hands.

"Hmm. No, my ya-ya taught me," Greg stared contemplatively at their joined hands. "And I believe John and Sherlock have..." He rubbed his face with his free hand. "But I never thought. I never..."

"I believe it for them too, but," Molly’s brow furrowed and she frowned, looking very near tears. "We didn't always find one another?"

"A few times, no. And a very few times you did reject each other, or one of you turned away from the other," Ioanna didn't try to disguise the sorrow in her voice. A tear trailed down Molly's cheek, and Greg pulled her to him. "Μείνε ακίνητος, my loves. Find peace here and now. Each time your hearts found each other, the bond grew stonger. Today, when you made your promises," she smiled warmly, "it is the strongest I have seen your heart connection."

"We've been idiots for far too long," Greg mumbled against Molly's hair. "I don't want to waste another lifetime."

"Ioan- μαμά, do you mind if we..." Molly scooted her chair around to face Greg and took both of his hands in hers.

"Perhaps a walk. A bit of time. Yes," Ioanna nodded. "Lunch here, even a celebration, is not so strict a thing as you English have made it. Go, find yourselves, listen closely to your hearts, the spirit and the passion there. Get lost in the peace you will find here. We'll be here when you find your way back, ready to celebrate with you."

Molly nodded placed gentle kisses on Greg's knuckles. He still looked shaken. "Come on, love." She stood and pulled him up too. He took a faltering step nearer her; leaning against her he wrapped his arms tightly around her.

"I'll not let you go, Romilly Leonora Hooper. Not now, not ever."

"I've got you love," Molly mumbled into his chest.

"We've got each other."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Πολύ λεπτό. Όλοι σας. - Too thin. All of you.
> 
> κόρη μου - my daughter
> 
> δύο ημίχρονα - two halves
> 
> Μείνε ακίνητος - be still


	19. Slightly Mad, but Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It might have driven me mad; but I was always a pretty stubborn one, so I just held on and bided my time.”  
> -Arthur Conan Doyle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a bit of explicitude ;)

Andy knew in his head that he'd only known Donovan for a few months, but as he held her hand as they walked into the clear water together, he knew his heart had known her much longer. They walked until they could no longer feel the sand between their toes, then they lay back still holding tightly on to the other, and they floated without speaking.

He wanted to leave everything here, all of the doubts and anger; every single day when it hurt to open his eyes and take a breath, the moments when he thought about living on the streets or -

"Andy?"

"Hmmm?"

"I'm so glad you didn't."

"What?"

"Give up."

"There were days. But, there was something that wouldn't let me. I just had the feeling, there was a reason; there had to be a reason why I existed. I understood the moment I met you; I was born to meet you."

Sally laughed next to him, a joyful burst he had never heard before, and he turned to look at her. She was smiling at him in a way that stripped him of everything that he had held tightly to.

"How? How do you -"

"Let's go back to shore?"

He nodded mutely, and they swam back slowly to where they had left their towels and the beach blanket Ioanna had given them.

He helped her from the sand and kissed her, then ran his fingers gently down her sides. She froze as his hand covered the spot where the bullet had exited. "There were hours when I didn't know if you were still alive. I was trapped in quarantine with John, no one knew anything, I still had your blood on my hands. But there was a moment, when I knew you would be okay, and I swore, I swore I would spend the rest of my life loving you."

Sally took a deep breath and blew it out. "I heard you. I know it sounds bat-shit crazy, but I heard you. You said, "Sally Donovan, you badarse, beautiful, fierce woman..."

"...when I get out of here, I promise, I swear..."

"...to dedicate my life to loving, honouring and cherishing you..." she smiled as his eyes lit up.

"...for the rest of my life...:"

"...and for whatever follows."

"Seems we've already made our vows, doesn't it?" Andy whispered as they sank down onto the blanket together. He pulled her against him and looked up at the sky. "I've never seen the sky that blue before." He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, she was above him, her eyes telling him that he was loved, honoured and cherished, and he rolled his eyes as he felt the tears wash over his face.

"I want you, Sally," he managed to whisper.

"I'm yours, love." She grinned down at him as she undid her bikini top and sighed as he slipped the straps from her shoulders.

"Gorgeous. God, you're lovely."

She stood and slipped the bottoms off, then laid down next to him and eased his wet trunks down so she could see him. He shivered as her fingers ran lightly across his chest, down his strong abdominal muscles, then lower still, as she traced his length with her fingertips, the feather touches made his eyes roll back and his breathing speed up. She touched him until he moaned her name, then straddled him and gently guided him inside her.

"Sal -"

"Shhhh, I have you." She bent down and kissed him as he thrust up inside her, and she answered back. It was a mad swirling dance, giving and receiving, for what seemed like hours, lost as they were in each other. At last he cried out as he pulsed deeply inside her and she shuddered with him.

She lay against him quietly for a moment, feeling his heart hammer against her fingers reminded her how alive they both were. How lucky they were to have found each other.

"Not luck, love. I don't believe in luck." He slipped from her body and wrapped his arms around her. "Let's get washed off, somehow get back in our suits, and go eat?"

"A bit peckish are we?" She grinned down at him.

His eyes twinkled back. "Must be the sun -" She tried to pull away from him in a pout, but he laughed and held her tightly against him. "No, it's always you, love. Always. I love you. I hope you know how much."

"Yes. I do, though some days I do believe you have to be quite mad," she smirked as she threw his trunks at him.

"Didn't you know all the best people are?" He whispered as he pulled her into another breathtaking kiss.

 

Somehow they ended up in bed, though neither one could tell how precisely, if asked. John opened Sherlock's robe, and sighed as he saw his husband's desire for him. "Sherlock?" He whispered, asking for permission.

Sherlock nodded and watched as John knelt between his legs, then bent over him to take him slowly into his mouth. This new part of their life together amazed him, he'd never needed or wanted anyone, and now -. He closed his eyes as he felt John take him in completely and then begin to suck ever so gently, and he felt himself about to implode, or explode, when John suddenly drew back. "Roll over, love, on your knees?"

Sherlock's eyes opened and he searched John's face. His eyes were blown, his need obvious in his voice and his fully ready length. He rolled to his knees and gasped as John began to open him with his tongue. "John - oh - god, please?"

"Are you - is this all right?"

"Yes, more, I need more, John - I want -"

"Hold on, love -" John grabbed the lube from the table and slicked his fingers. He pressed in gently with a single finger, then two, as Sherlock invited him inside - "Sherlock, you feel -"

"John, I need you - "

"Shhh - I know, just a bit more -" he added a third finger and felt Sherlock moan as it slipped in easily. He withdrew his fingers and held Sherlock's hips as he carefully eased himself into the warm tightness. Sherlock pushed back against him and they both froze.

"Sher -"

"John - I - oh - "

John held on to Sherlock as his orgasm shuddered through him, then closed his eyes as Sherlock moved against him, soon bringing him to a state close to...mystical? Ridiculous as it sounded to his own normal rational brain, it was the only word that fit at the moment. After a moment, he caught his breath and they sank together into the bed.

He pulled out carefully, then collapsed next to his husband.

"I'm sorry," Sherlock whispered miserably into his pillow.

"What could you possibly be sorry for? That was amazing -"

"I wanted to last longer - I - you just felt so - "

"Brilliant, you were brilliant, love."

"I wanted it to be -"

"Look at me, Sherlock. Please?"

Sherlock rolled over and saw the light and love dance together in John's dark eyes.

"It was -"

"...perfect." John finished the thought. 

"We should -"

"...get ready."

"In a few minutes."

"They will understand if we are -"

"...a bit late."


	20. Mythology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Chance has put in our way a most singular and whimsical problem." - Arthur Conan Doyle

It made so much sense. And yet...

No, no it didn't, not in a logical way. Not to the scientific mind she'd spent her life cultivating. She was no Sherlock Holmes, but damn it, Molly was fucking brilliant and she knew it. And the science didn't work.

Two halves of one heart? How had Ioanna -- uhm, μαμά -- said it? Δύο μισά της μιας καρδιάς.

Molly knew the mythology. The humans with too many arms and legs, and two faces, cut in half by the deity, forced to spend their existence searching for their other halves. While other girls her age had loved the frilly cartoon retelling of classic fairystories, the Greek myth had been a favorite of hers as a child, much to the consternation of her teachers (one of many eccentricities resulting in her long-suffering mother being called repeatedly for conferences).

It wasn't so much the soulmate aspect of the mythology that intrigued her. It was the anatomy of the matter. It's why she eventually pursued the course of study she did. Understanding the human body on a microscopic level.

That made sense.

Being told her own life was literally Greek mythology unfolding before her, leaving a trail of love and heartbreak behind, did not.

In the back of her mind, Molly had often wondered at some of the couples she'd known. It seemed as if they had been made for each other, hand crafted, specifically designed. But that wasn't actually possible was it? The idea of a soulmate, two people whose past and future were some way tangled together by the cosmos, who could recognize that in each other lifetime after lifetime, was beautiful and romantic. But it was just that, a myth. A child's bedtime story.

And then Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. And bloody hell, as much as she tried to deny it at the beginning, it was as if they were the original humans that Zeus had torn asunder. They were the undeniable two halves of one heart. And they couldn't even see it. But the pull, the longing of the two halves had been obvious, even to lovelorn Molly.

Blinking against the afternoon sun, Molly glanced around her. She and Greg had made their way, rather uncoordinatedly, down from Andreas and Ioanna's rooms, only by holding and helping each other. They'd literally staggered onto the street, both overcome with bittersweet emotion. She wasn't certain how long they'd been walking, but Greg had left her to her silent contemplation. Her beautiful brilliant man seemed plenty occupied by his own thoughts.

She studied him as they walked. The strong line of his body, the dashing cut of his shoulders, the confidence, though momentarily shaken, in his stride. That arse. Greg wasn't what anyone would consider sculpted, but Molly knew. She could see, with familiar eyes, the definition and tone that others might overlook. Sturdy. Dependable. Powerful. Molly blushed and had to look away to catch her breath.

When she finally turned her gaze back, she found herself pondering the way their hands fit together. Her hands were small and deceptively delicate looking. Manicured, moisturized, and well tended. One would have to get intimately close to spot the scars and blemishes; most from a childhood spent in competition with older brothers, a very few as a result of her career. Greg's hands were larger, enveloping. His fingers more blunt, there were scars and calluses, as one would expect. But Molly knew Greg's hands were soft, gentle yet strong, so very strong, and compassionate. She bit her lip as the words curious and skilled also came to mind. She did not make the undignified noise that tried to escape her throat.

And Greg had never just simply held her hand. From the very first time, he had firmly entwined their fingers together, locking them together, making any attempt of retreat no easy task. It was exactly how Molly had always thought she'd like to have her hand held. No one in her rather sordid romantic history had ever cared to find out how she wanted to hold hands; most of them never even tried. But Greg hadn't even asked. He'd just known.

Her eyes traveled up to his face. The set of his jaw was always the first indication of stress. The way he clenched and unclenched it, and the line of his mouth, revealed so much. She saw an edge of anxiety there. His breathing was deep and intentional. He would occasionally rub his free hand along his jaw, then card his fingers through his hair. God. His hair. Molly's fingers twitched and she felt a bit weak in the knees, but refused to make a scene in the middle of the street.

"What?" Greg's mouth quirked into a tiny smile and Molly realized he'd been studying her as intently as she'd been observing him.

Molly opened her mouth to respond, sighed, and opted to chew on her lip instead.

"Hey," pulling her to a stop, Greg stood in front of her, still holding tight to one hand with his. He brushed his thumb tenderly over her lip and she exhaled slowly. He searched her eyes with his deep brown eyes, so dark and fathomless in that moment she thought perhaps she could glimpse eternity there, and she just knew he was peering into the depths of her soul. She ducked her head and turned her face away from his gaze.

"Nuh-uh," Greg breathed as he let go of her fingers and cradled her face in his warm, timid hands. He turned her face to his. The kiss was soft and sweet, and she felt bereft as he pulled away from her. "I have looked into your eyes with my eyes. I have put my heart near your heart."*

"That's not Shakespeare."

"No." Another whisper of a kiss.

With a hum, Molly pursued Greg's lips with a bit more force, but he stopped her with the soft warm pad of his thumb against her lips once more. "Come with me, love." Molly closed her hands over Greg's hands still holding her so so gently, and nodded.

Entangling their fingers once more, Greg led Molly to a nearby antique shop. She didn't question him as he led her inside and directly to the old glass top counter. Exchanging a few pleasantries in Greek, the young woman sorting ancient looking tomes grinned and covered her mouth with her hands.

"Papa has been waiting for you. Let me get him." She rushed around the counter, and embraced them both, placing kisses on their cheeks, before she disappeared into another room.

"Greg? What's happening?"

"Sherlock told me about this place," he winked at her and busied himself reading the titles stacked on the counter.

"Mister Lestrade!" The shop proprietor bustled out, wiping his dusty hands on his trousers, paying no mind to the smudge on his face or the streaks in his hair. "Συγχώρεσέ με! I was cleaning. Είστε εδώ για το δαχτυλίδι, yes?"

"Ναί!" Greg grinned.

"Ah! My friends!" Despite being covered in dust, the man, Mr. Morretti (an Italian transplant, but Greek at heart he often joked) kissed their cheeks and stepped around the counter. He removed a small box from a locked drawer and handed it with great care to Greg. "Everything is settled," he smiled conspiratorially.

"But," Greg blinked, "I only just made the one..."

Mr. Morretti smiled and ducked his head in a small bow. "We will see you at lunch, yes? To welcome you properly?"

"But..."

With a knowing glance at Molly, who watched the whole exchange with wonder, Mr. Morretti shooed them toward the door. "We are all friends here. Now, go put that to good use."

"What was that?" Molly laughed as they stepped back out onto the street. Greg took her hand once more, and began walking with a purpose.

"I don't- I have no idea. I can't..." He huffed, "you don't think Myc, or Sherlock..." He ran his thumb over the black velvet of the box in his hand. "I only spoke with Morretti once over the phone."

"Show me what you've got there and maybe I can help you figure it out," Molly cocked an eyebrow and smiled a devious grin at him.

"Ah, no. Nice try, but not yet." Greg laughed as he came to a stop in front of an old, well maintained chapel.

"Gr-greg?" Molly could help the nervous giggle. "What... why are we..."

"No. Oh god, no," Wide eyed, Greg stood in front of her once more. "No. Nothing crazy. I just... I did some research before we came, and I want to show you something." He held his breath as he waited for her reaction, only releasing it when the look of relief crossed her face.

Greg led her in through the tiny vestibule and didn't go any deeper into the building. At first look, the room was completely unremarkable, until Molly noticed that they were cast about in beams of light tinted rose, blue, and green. She looked up behind Greg to a wall lined with stained glass depicting the creation story.

"Oh," Molly breathed. "It's gorgeous..."

Bringing her hand to his lips, Greg brushed a light kiss across the top. "I wanted to show you, well..." He turned her around to face the opposite bank of windows, a series of stained glass that appeared to seamlessly depict the vastness of the universe. There were swirling galaxies, stars, darkness and light all depicted in the deepest purples and blues. It seemed impossible that something so dark could allow so much light to shine through. They were both speechless as they took it in.

After what must have been a short eternity, Greg led Molly nearer the stars, and kissed her hand again. "I love you. You know this," there was a tremor in his voice.

"Yes love." 

"Ioanna's dream, it was hard. It hurt me to hear that there could ever have been a time..."

"I'm so angry at the past. The me that would even consider walking away. How could I? How could we?"

Greg stopped her with another light kiss. "I don't know, love. I don't... I still don't know. What I do know is that what has passed has passed. And what I have right here in front of me is you."

Molly huffed a laugh and blinked back tears. "Greg, we already..." Another kiss and she stilled, leaning in to his chest. "Please, love." Greg nodded and kissed her more deeply. She did whimper when he pulled away that time.

"We're in a church, Mols," Greg whispered.

"Prude."

Rolling his eyes, Greg shook his head. He kissed her forehead and then went down on one knee. "I couldn't wait to do this underneath the real stars, so this will have to do. We've already made vows. We've had our faith in ourselves and our love shaken. We've been through so much. But here we are."

"Here we are," Molly whispered.

"I already promised forever. And you already said yes..." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he looked up with joy.

" _*Doubt thou the stars are fire,_  
_Doubt that the sun doth move,_  
_Doubt truth to be a liar,_  
_But never doubt I love._ "

Molly laughed even as tears slid down her cheeks. "Couldn't help yourself."

"Hmm, nope." Greg opened the box and held the ring up for Molly to see. Antique white gold with a rose colored diamond in the center, surrounded by small vines and leaves of tiny white diamonds. The setting was on the small side, at first glance it didn't appear very impressive, but upon close inspection, the ring was hand set, and some of the vines were twisted into tiny infinity symbols. It was simple, yet intricate. Bold. Delicate. Perfectly them.

Molly gasped and barely managed to bite back a surprised profanity. She tangled her fingers in his hair and leaned down to kiss him. "I will never doubt. Never."

"Can I put it on you?" Greg mumbled against her lips. Molly giggled and dropped her hands from his now disheveled hair. He slid the ring on and kissed each of her fingers. 

Pulling Greg up from the floor, and ignoring his mussed hair, Molly turned him toward the door and pushed him to exit. "What's the rush, don't like the windows?"

"They're gorgeous, but right now I need to do... things. And as you so astutely pointed out, we're in a church." Molly fumbled with the door, and Greg laughed.

"I think I saw an orchard out back. It's no hidden seaside cove, but..."

"Don't you worry. We aren't leaving this island until I have my way with you in the sand."

"Yes ma'am," Greg laughed again as Molly pulled him around the building to the shady grove.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Pope John XXIII
> 
> **"Hamlet," William Shakespeare, Act II, Scene ii
> 
> \------
> 
> Συγχώρεσέ με - forgive me
> 
> Είστε εδώ για το δαχτυλίδι - you are here for the ring
> 
> Ναί- yes


	21. "the readiness is all..."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There was no use denying anything to a woman, for she would have her way.”  
> ― Arthur Conan Doyle

Mycroft shook his head in wonder at his wife...she was actually truly his wife, she had even taken his name, no hyphens, she was simply Violet Holmes now. Hunter had never meant anything to her, other than remind her of what she had lacked as a child. He tried to hold in a grin as she quickly adapted to slowing down. She oohed and aahed over every new flower, took photos of everything, including the ancient olive grove where Sherlock and John had spent a glorious afternoon not so long ago. And once they finally entered the village proper, he stood back and watched as she discovered that she had indeed become part of the village. She was not a tourist, she had become a daughter, a sister, a cousin; everyone wanted to touch her - they embraced her, kissed her cheeks, made a fuss over her and for once, it didn't scare or embarrass her. It felt like home, but not a home she had ever been a part of before.

"Are you alright, Vi?" He pulled her into a quick embrace before they joined the party.

"Myc." She sighed against him. "I understand why Sherlock and John hated to leave this place - it is, I don't have a word for what this place does to me - thank you."

He pulled away to look into her eyes. "For what?"

"For everything, for being there that day so long ago. For your love, your kindness - your spirit, whatever brought us here, to this place."

"It was you, Vi. You brought me back here. Without you, I wouldn't be here today, I couldn't be who I am without you." He kissed her softly and nodded at the gathering crowd. The street that had been empty a few minutes before, was now covered in decorated tables, flowers, and more food than they had ever seen, and the people were streaming from their cottages, ready to begin the celebration. "Ready?"

"Ready." She kissed him back long and hard to the delight of the crowd.

Mycroft hooted from a sense of joy that he had never felt before; instead of drowning in embarrassment, he found he frankly reveled in it. Vi looked at him in shock and her eyes danced at him. "I love you, so much. You never cease to surprise me, Mycroft Holmes."

 

Sherlock leaned against the doorway and watched as John shaved. He wondered at the idea that he never got bored observing the man who stood at the sink, carefully removing any trace of stubble; he was beginning to turn a shade grayer at the edges, reminding Sherlock of how little time they had actually had spent together. It made him catch his breath a bit, just enough to make John look up and glance at him in the mirror.

"καρδιά μου?" 

"Nothing. It's noth - I was just considering how little time we have spent together, as in, in the same place, at the same time. It just hit me, that's all."

John rinsed off his face and turned to face him. "Then, you know what?"

"What?"

"Let's agree not to waste any more time on thinking about the time we haven't had. Let's think about the time we have, now, here, in this remarkable, beautiful, ancient place with the people who love us. Agreed?"

Sherlock nodded, and drew John into a long kiss, that seemed to promise him anything and everything.

"Hold that thought, love. I need to get dressed and stay dressed, otherwise, we will never leave this cottage."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at him and John laughed. "Later - I'm rather peckish -"

"Mmmm..."

"Food, for food, you beautiful git. It is a good thing you are dressed, though, because -"

"because?"

"Oh, look at the time -" John ducked under Sherlock's arms and made it to the bedroom before he could be caught.

"Johhhhhhn....awww, c'mon -"

"Later! Bluebell needs a walk anyway -"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at the dog, who raised an eyebrow at her name, but otherwise ignored their conversation.

Two minutes later, John reappeared, wearing shorts, and a dark indigo shirt that made his eyes seem otherworldly. Sherlock stood before him, and whispered. "Just one more kiss before we go?"

"One more."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title is from Hamlet, Act 5, scene 2...


	22. Enchanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The lowest and vilest alleys in London do not present a more dreadful record of sin than does the smiling and beautiful countryside." - Arthur Conan Doyle

_If_ _we shadows have offended,_  
 _Think but this, and all is mended,_  
 _That you have but slumber'd here_  
 _While these visions did appear..._

Brushing soft, sweetly mussed hair back from Molly's face, Greg pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and held her a little tighter. She mumbled and sighed against his chest.

The early afternoon sun filtered through the trees and cast them in shadowed, otherworldly golden beams. The mottled light fell gently across the form of his love, his sacred other half, curled in his lap. She was pressed against him as in an attempt to make the two wholly one again.

Molly had never looked more lovely. She was beautiful, in spite of her slightly rumpled and grass stained sundress. She radiated life, personified perfection; in the soft dappled light of the grove they'd secreted away to Greg finally understood what it was to be in the presence of a masterpiece.

Somewhere above, a songbird warbled for its mate, and Greg was glad no one could see his soppy grin when the sweet response trilled from somewhere just beyond. He shifted slightly to relieve the pressure of the stray tree root pressing to his spine, and mumbled into Molly's hair...

 _And this weak and idle theme,_  
_No more yielding but a dream,_  
 _Gentles, do not reprehend:_  
 _if you pardon, we will mend:_

With a sigh, Molly stretched and blinked up at him. "Hmm?"

"I..." Speechless, Greg was overcome by the way her nose, her cheeks, already boasted a rosy glow from the sun. The mid-afternoon light highlighted the golden flecks in her warm eyes. He drew her chin up and leaned down to kiss her gingerly.

Molly sat up and wrapped her arms around him, pressing kisses along his jaw. "Were you praying just now?" He could feel her smile brush against his ear.

"Ah, no," he chuckled. "Should I have?"

"You are a man of faith," she tugged at his collar.

"I have faith in us."

"You believe in a higher power."

"I do." He ran his fingers through her hair.

"I didn't use to, but now..." Burying her face in his neck, Molly inhaled deeply.

"Now?"

"How else can this be explained?"

Greg hummed in agreement. "Do we have to explain it? Can't we just... be? I have you. Here. Now. I don't need to understand why."

"Yes," Molly whispered, and turned in his arms so she was straddling his thighs. She cupped his face in her warm hands and kissed him senseless. "You have me... shall always have me."

Panting, Greg's voice rumbled low. "Had you twice right here."

Molly nipped at his lip as a blush crept to her cheeks. "Perhaps you should pray..." She giggled. "We did do _that_ in a churchyard."

"Twice."

"Twice," she laughed and kissed him again. "A sin, I'm sure."

"In need of absolution am I? Are you innocent in the matter?" He turned his face and placed a kiss on the inside of her wrist. His smile was devious as he felt her shudder.

"Innocent? No..." She lowered her hands to his chest, and flexed her fingers as the sun glinted off her ring. The corner of her mouth quirked up slightly, and she looked deep in thought.

"Mols?" Greg ran his hands down her arms. "Where'd you go?"

"We're practically already married."

"Wha-" Greg blinked in surprise at the non sequitur.

"We made our vows this morning. Our declarations to each other. And we kissed."

Greg cleared his throat. "A bit more..."

"Hmm," Molly smiled. "I gave you a ring."

"You did."

"And you gave me one. Inside a church, no less."

Greg picked up Molly's hand and kissed the ring he'd placed there, then the top of her hand as well. "I did."

"And then we..." Molly tilted her head playfully. "Consumated..."

"Twice!" With a bark of laughter, Greg tumbled Molly back into the soft grass so the he was above her. "That we did, my love. My heart. My bride."

"Husband," Molly smiled and pulled him down into a long and passionate kiss. They separated only when they thought they heard movement in some brush near the gate. "Fuck," Molly whispered, panic in her eyes.

Greg groaned, and pushed himself clumsily up. He helped Molly stand, and they quickly tried to sort and brush and tug each other into some semblance of order. "You've a grass stain on your hemline..."

"There's dirt on your arse..."

"Your hair..."

"Oh god, your knees..."

"Oh shit, what if Sherlock..."

"Oh, here you are!" Alex burst through the brush and pulled Niko stumbling behind him. "The party is starting, and Ioanna said you went for a walk, and Niko and me walk back here all the time... and..."

Greg took Molly's hand, knotting their fingers together, and they stood very still, trying to conceal their guilt, both on the verge of giggling. Alex looked them up and down, his eyes narrowed. "You weren't just walking."

Molly couldn't contain the nervous giggle. Greg opened his mouth to explain, but closed it quickly.

Glancing around and then above their heads, Alex nodded. "These trees aren't very good for climbing. We know where better ones are. We can show you. Niko is the best tree climber."

Greg snorted and Molly elbowed him in the side. "Ah yes. We... were trying to have an adventure, and, well..."

"No, this grove isn't right at all for that." Alex turned matter-of-factly from them and started the trek back toward the gate. "Tomorrow me and Niko can show you the whole island. Maybe Sherlock and γιατρός John will come on the adventure too."

Molly choked back a laugh and covered her mouth with her hand. "That sounds lovely." She took a step to follow Alex, but Niko was standing still, watching them.

Leaning in, Niko whispered, "it's okay. I know." He nodded, and Greg swallowed hard.

"You... uhm?"

"Alex is only six. He's too young. But I know about kissing. It's okay. I won't tell him." Niko smiled innocently up at them and then ran to catch up with Alex.

Releasing the breath she'd been holding, Molly turned to Greg with a nervous laugh. "Tell me again you weren't praying."

"I..." Greg exhaled a deep shuddering breath. "Damn," he chuckled. "Are we going to hell?"

"Possibly," Molly giggled and tugged Greg's hand as she started to follow after the boys. "What exactly were you saying back there, if not praying?"

Greg rolled his eyes and picked up where he left off...

 _And, as I am an honest Puck,_  
_If we have unearned luck_  
 _Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,_  
 _We will make amends ere long;_  
 _Else the Puck a liar call;_  
 _So, good night unto you all._  
 _Give me your hands, if we be friends,_  
 _And Robin shall restore amends.*_

"Oh, right..."

"It's true!" Greg laughed and held up his hand as if he were giving an oath.

"Of course you were," Molly laughed, then stumbled to a halt as they stepped out onto the street to see the whole village turned out to celebrate. "Fuck... oh shite."

"We found them!" They heard Alex declare, somewhere up ahead of them.

"Indeed you have," Mycroft glanced them up and down, a smug grin on his face.

"We went for a walk," Molly blushed again.

"I can see that." Violet chuckled and plucked a small twig from Molly's hair. Molly groaned. "C'mon, then. Let's go around this way so you can at least get changed before you scandalize the locals." She wrapped her arm around Molly.

Greg stood a moment and watched them go. Mycroft stepped up next to him. "I believe congratulations are in order."

"Hmm, yeah. Thanks, Myc. And about the ring..."

"That wasn't me. You'll want to speak to my brother. I believe he and John can answer for that." Mycroft patted Greg's shoulder. "You should go get cleaned up as well. You have some dirt..."

"Myc! Are you looking at my arse?"

"Don't flatter yourself." Mycroft cocked an eyebrow at him and strolled after Molly and Vi.

"Bloody hell, this place must be enchanted. Mycroft Holmes just made a joke!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "A Midsummer Nights Dream," William Shakspeare; Act V, Scene i


	23. Joyful Noise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "They knew each other very well--so well that they could sit now in that soothing silence which is the very highest development of companionship.”  
> \- Arthur Conan Doyle

Bluebell dashed ahead, then danced back, as if trying to get them to walk a bit faster, finally, she gave up and followed her nose, wherever it would lead her, as the two men traveled hand in hand in silence together, the silence of companions who needed no words to reassure the other, or themselves.

It astonished Sherlock how well they fit together, their fingers so different; his long, seemingly fragile digits scarred and discoloured by years of experiments, slotted into John's better made ones, he searched until he found that one imperfection, the scar from their first trip to this place, the place that made them -

"We're here, καρδιά μου."

Sherlock blinked as it seemed the entire village turned all at once at their arrival. There was the briefest pause of not simply a lack of voices and stillness, but the world shuddered to a complete halt, even the sea stopped, the birds paused - Sherlock blinked again and Niko shattered the image.

"γιατρός John!" Both boys barreled into them, chattering at full speed, pulling them into the music and joyful noise. Sherlock caught John's eye and asked him without saying a word, "how did we ever leave this place?"

John shrugged as they were carried by the stream of friends, towards the center of the feast where their family was already waiting. Sherlock took a moment to take in the sight, his brother dancing with his new wife, Greg feeding Molly a bit of something, and Donovan sitting in Andy's lap, looking as if she had always belonged there amidst the idyllic chaos. She glanced at him at that moment, whispered something to Andy, then got up and walked over to them. 

She wrapped her arms around him, and leaned against his chest for a moment. "Thank you." She shook her head as he began to speak. "I know. You have repaid me a hundred times over - you have given me so much, I'll never be able to -"

"Just be happy, Donovan, hmm?" Their eyes met and she nodded.

"I think, yeah, I think I can do that." He wiped a tear away from her face and smiled as he watched Andy being pulled from his chair and into a dance. Andy raised an eyebrow at them and laughed, not that quiet, self-deprecating chuckle, but a full belly laugh, and Sherlock knew they would be just fine - no, they would be better than -

"Everyone!!" Ioanna brought the party to a halt once more. "Now that our boys are here, the celebration can truly begin!" And the music sprang back to life.


	24. Marvel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I was marvelling in my own mind how I could possibly have overlooked so obvious a clue." -Arthur Conan Doyle

_"Grigórios, αγαπητέ..."_

_"Γιαγιά, it's Greg. No one calls me Grigórios but you." Crossing his arms over his chest, sixteen year-old Greg scowled and gave a lazy half-hearted kick to the seat in front of him. The flustered businessman occupying the seat glared back at him, grumbled, and lowered his seat back in retribution._

_"You will always be my Grigórios." A calloused, work-worn hand patted his knee. Greg looked up into fathomless deep brown eyes and saw love and the wisdom of age there. He also heard the stern correction in the carefully chosen words. "Now stop moping and apologize."_

_Greg sighed and considered rebellion for only a moment, when the deceptively feeble-looking aged fingers pinched his earlobe. His ya-ya raised one eyebrow at him, as if she were daring him to challenge her further._

_"Fine!" He huffed. It was with poor grace that he leaned forward to tap the businessman on the shoulder and mumble a quick apology. The man grunted once and returned to ignoring Greg entirely, leaving his seat reclined. Greg huffed and motioned to the seat in front of him with frustration. "Happy?"_

_"Never do the right thing for the wrong reasons, αγαπητέ." His ya-ya patted his shoulder, and then settled more comfortably into her seat._

_"What does that even mean?" Exasperated, Greg crossed his arms over his chest once more. He started to shuffle his feet, but thought better of it._

_"A lesson that will save you much heartache in the future." She smiled to herself and shuffled through her bag for her book. She held out a container of grapes to him._

_"Γιαγιά, we're on an aeroplane. They have food here," Greg whispered as he shook his head. His cheeks were tinged pink in embarrassment._

_"Pfft. You've tasted this food. Σκουπίδια," ya-ya declared boldly._

_"Shhh," Greg pleaded._

_"You're a growing boy. You need real food."_

_"I'm not hungry. I swear," Greg eyed the overhead compartment. He might just be able to hide there._

_"Nonsense. It explains this ugly διάθεση." She held up a bundle of biscuits. They were still warm. Greg had no idea when she'd had time to bake before they'd left their too small flat that morning._

_He relented and took the offered snack. "Ευχαριστώ."_

_Pleased, ya-ya hummed and kissed his cheek._

_"It's not because I'm hungry," Greg grumbled around the whole biscuit he'd fit into his mouth._

_"Τότε γιατί, Grigosóri?"_

_"I don't understand why we come here every summer."_

_"You love Greece." Ya-ya did not look up from her book._

_"I don't," Greg pulled a face then shoved another biscuit in his mouth._

_"You do, and you will behave respectfully." She hadn't even glanced at him._

_"I just want to spend summer holiday with my friends. Normal. Like everyone else."_

_"You are not normal. You are έκτακτος. One day, you will understand. One day, there will be people who understand this about you. You must know who you are and where you come from. Then you will understand."_

_"I'm from Somerset, and I just want to have fun with my friends. I actually had a chance with Kaddie MacMillan..."_

_"No. She is not for you. Those friends, those terrible girls, they are all wrong!" Ya-ya waved her hand dismissively and picked up her book._

_"Kaddie's not terrible," Greg hissed. "I think I might love her."_

_"Oh, αγαπητέ. You are so young. You think you know love, but what you are feeling is the emotion of your youth." She turned to face him once more. "But your heart knows the truth. Trust your heart, αγαπητέ."_

_"But, I want..."_

_"What you want and what you need are not always the same thing. What you want is not always what is best. Of this, I am certain." His ya-ya smiled at him, but her eyes had dulled as she remembered._

_Greg took her hand in his, the biscuits, the businessman, and Kaddie MacMillan all forgotten. "Γιαγιά."_

_"Υπομονή, Grigosóri. You may have to wait, and it may be difficult. But trust your heart always. It will not fail you." She took his hand in both of hers. "Για μένα, αγαπητέ, promise me you will always remember who you are." She placed his hand over his own heart. "There is so much for you to learn. Things your heart will need in order to hear. That is why we make this trip. It is why we come home."_

* * *

 

"I know that look."

Greg jumped, startled from his reverie by Sherlock's chuckle. "What are you on about?" It took him a moment to reacclimate to his surroundings. This island wasn't his ya-ya's childhood home -- it was the next one over, he'd learned -- but it bore so many striking similarities. So much was so very familiar, and his heart ached with it. Home.

Sherlock cleared his throat, and Greg realized he was being analyzed. He left Sherlock to it and scanned the party goers. He smiled and sighed when he spotted Molly, face flushed with joy and laughing. Alex and Niko had dragged γιατρός John out into the middle of the square, and he'd in turn caught Molly's hand to join him in his humiliation as they stumbled their way through dancing the Ζορμπά.

He looked past the missteps and the way her hair tumbled from the loose bun Vi had helped her fashion. He found her laughed curses endearing, and the look on her face... God. Perfection. The very definition of flawless. His mind reeled at the enormity of the vows they'd made to one another. Trust his heart indeed. How could he ever have imagined this depth of love? Greg was startled once more when Sherlock pressed a drink into his hand.

"You're wondering how it is the universe could have gotten it so wrong."

"Sorry..." Greg choked on his drink. "Uhm, what? I don't think that..." He turned to face Sherlock, and realized he was no longer the object of those laser focused eyes. Sherlock had gone completely soft around his eyes, not a line or a wrinkle, and a tiny smile pulled at his lips. He looked impossibly young, even as Greg caught a few stray flashes of silver in the riotous dark curls. He followed Sherlock's gaze, and was not surprised to find John as the cause of the purest, truest expression he'd ever witnessed.

"You're thinking she's too good. Too wonderful. That somehow you ended up with someone else's perfection. But... The universe didn't get it wrong," Sherlock kept his voice low, there was something tender, vulnerable, there. "I was too blind to see it for too long. I thought I couldn't possibly deserve..." He shook his head and glanced back at Greg. "It's okay to be happy. It's... I'm allowed to love John. And I do. And... He loves me. He loves _me._ "

"Yeah, mate." Greg sniffed and blinked rather more than he'd have liked.

"And you too. You're meant to love Molly. And she you. You're meant to be happy, Greg. Did you know?"

"God, Sherlock... I," Greg exhaled slowly. "Damn."

"It's not a mistake."

"No." Greg smiled and chuckled.

"The universe didn't get it wrong. Didn't get us wrong. We just needed time to hear our hearts. To know... To understand who we were meant to be."

"Sherlock," before he could talk himself out of it, Greg pulled his friend into a tight embrace. "Yes. You are right. You're always right, though, aren't you?" He laughed as he pulled away.

"Hmmm, usually." He studied Greg's countenance for a moment, looking for any sign of mockery. Finding only true happiness, Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Unless you ask John..."

"Well, I mean..." Greg shrugged and chuckled.

"I'm going to..." Sherlock inclined his head toward John. The music had changed, and he and Molly were laughing and trying to escape the center of the dancing so they could catch their breath.

Greg nodded. "Wait... the ring. I need to..."

"Talk to John. Not now, because I'm going to dance with my husband," Sherlock's face flushed with joy, "but later." He flashed a grin Greg was certain John only ever saw as he swooped in and spun John away from Molly's side.

Molly laughed and sought him out in the crowd. Greg handed his drink to her and led her to a nearby bench.

"Having fun?"

"Oh god, so much. Greg, this place..."

He stopped her words with a slow, lingering kiss. "Molly, would you... Can I take you home?"

"Greg?" Her brow furrowed. "I thought..."

"No. No, love. I mean, to my island, where my family is from? I need to..." He took a deep breath.

"Yes. Yes, absolutely. I want to learn everything about you. I want it all, Greg." Molly took both his hands in hers. "Let's follow your heart."

"Our heart, isn't it? Two halves become one."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> αγαπητέ- dear one
> 
> Γιαγιά - Grandmother
> 
> Σκουπίδια - garbage
> 
> διάθεση - attitude/temper
> 
> Ευχαριστώ - thank you
> 
> Τότε γιατί - then why
> 
> έκτακτος - extraordinary
> 
> Υπομονή - patience
> 
> Για μένα - For me


	25. "All good things..."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Patience, my friend, patience! You will find in time that it has everything to do with it.”  
> -Arthur Conan Doyle

After a few dances, Mycroft felt a twinge of pain, alerting him to the necessity of rest. He handed Violet off to John and joined Sherlock at a quiet table.

"She fits in nicely, Myc." Sherlock murmured as he stretched out his long legs. It still shocked Mycroft how easily Sherlock gave up his black suits, trading them in for baggy shorts and soft t shirts.

"Hmm, yes." Mycroft resettled himself, with a sigh, and Sherlock turned his sharp eyes on him.

"You're tired, hip hurts, but you are, I believe, brother mine, at the very least content, perhaps even, dare I say it - happy?"

"What gave me away?" Mycroft answered quietly, as he sipped a bit of wine, observing his wife dancing as if she were a native, and he had no choice, but to smile.

"Ever since you married Vi, you carry yourself in a way I've not seen before, as if you have nothing left to prove to anyone, most importantly, to yourself." Sherlock paused for a long moment, staring into his empty glass. Then he whispered, almost inaudibly, "they would have found her eminently suitable. They would have loved her. Very much."

Mycroft turned his gaze on his brother for the first time since he sat down, and once again marveled at the man he had become. He paused and reached out for Sherlock's hand, and was not surprised to feel his brother's fingers grasp his own gently. "Yes, I do think they would have adored her, and Mum would have shaken her head at me, and reminded me that a good love, a strong and true love sometimes takes a very long time, but if one is patient -"

" 'sometimes your true love comes looking for you, when you least expect it.' Yes - Mum, she certainly knew her stuff." Sherlock grinned as he watched John finally retire gracefully, but exhausted, from the field. "I do believe, Myc, that we are done for the evening. I wish you and Vi a good night, and the cottage door is always unlocked, in fact, I don't know that we ever received a key."

John more or less fell into Sherlock's arms, nearly out of breath, but beaming. "Take me home before you have to carry me there."

"καρδιά μου, you know I would not consider it a hardship." Sherlock murmured softly to his better half.

"Nevertheless, love." John raised an eyebrow at his husband and if there had been enough moonlight, Mycroft would have seen his brother blush in shades rarely seen on a Holmes' face.

"Quite." Sherlock and John bade farewell to Mycroft and made their way through the crowds, collecting Bluebell and Kya on their way back to their cottage.

Vi finally collapsed in the chair next to her husband an hour later. "Home?" She asked.

"Hmmm...was wondering how you felt about a moonlight swim?" Mycroft kissed her hand softly.

"But, we don't have our suits - oh. Oh, Myc...sounds perfectly yummy." She leaned over and kissed him with such joyful passion, that it left him breathless.

"Shall we make our farewells?" Mycroft mumbled against her lips.

"I do believe we shall, my love."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "All good things come to those who wait." - Violet Fane (1843 - 1905) Poet, Novelist and essayist.


	26. Enjoying the View

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "A change had come over Holmes’s manner. He had lost his listless expression, and again I saw an alert light of interest in his keen, deep-set eyes." -Arthur Conan Doyle

Niko assumed his most grown-up looking expression and bowed to Sally (he only lost his balance and stumble-stepped once). Giggling, Sally bit her lip to conceal a smile and attempted a clumsy curtsy. Covering his mouth with his hand, Niko couldn't help laughing. 

"Thank you for dancing with me," he smiled up at her.

"It was my honor," Sally ruffled his hair and kissed his cheek. Niko ducked his head to hide the blush tinting his cheeks.

"You are a good dancer," holding out his elbow -- Sally adored this chivalrous young boy all the more for it -- he waited for her to take his arm so he could walk her to her family.

"Do you want to know a secret?" She leaned in to whisper. "I never knew how until I met Al- uhm, Andy. He taught me," she nodded in his direction. Together they paused and watched him do a ridiculous twirl, trying to impress some of the village children.

Niko scrunched his face. "Hmm, I think you must have been better than you thought. I don't think..."

"Trust me, he's  very good," Sally laughed and patted Niko's arm as they approached Greg and Molly. "Thank you for a lovely afternoon... Well, evening now, Niko. I don't know when I ever had so much fun." She kissed his cheek again.

"I, uhm..." Niko blushed again. Greg chuckled and Molly elbowed him in his side as Alex ran up to them.

"There you are! I've been looking everywhere," Alex waved his hands wildly toward the crowd, and it was Molly who giggled at the familiar gesture. "I need to show you..." He paused and looked at Niko closely, then to Sally and back to Niko, then rolled his eyes. "Come _on!_ "

"Goodnight, boys," Sally chuckled. Niko raised his hand to wave, but Alex grabbed it and pulled him away, nodding once over his shoulder.

Greg snorted. "Damn. I still can't..."

"It's uncanny," Sally grinned.

"I think Niko has a bit of a crush," Molly bumped Sally with her shoulder.

"He'll outgrow it. They all do."

"Well, except..." Greg nodded in Andy's direction. "I think you're stuck with him."

Andy had moved on to dance with Ioanna, and there was a small group of the island matrons awaiting their turns with excitement. "Oh hell. We'll be here the rest of the week at this rate," Sally didn't try to hide the affection on her face. Ioanna laughed suddenly and Sally rolled her eyes.

"Oh god, he's doing it again."

"What?" Molly leaned into Greg, who wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"Sometimes he sings the lyrics to pop songs over the top of instrumental or classical music... It's stupid and childish. And he's surprisingly good at it. He's been doing it all night." Catching Andy's eye, Sally motioned him over. He bowed to Ioanna and the other ladies, who acted rather put out until Andy pointed to Sally, and they seemed to agree vehemently that he should go.

"Yeah. He's totally gone on you, Donovan. Lucky you," Greg snorted.

"Hmm, lucky me indeed," with a gasped laugh, Sally let herself be swept into a breathless kiss. "What was that?" She managed whisper.

"Just following orders," Andy flashed a cheeky grin back at Ioanna and the others, who all cheered in response.

"Do you always follow orders?" Sally cocked an eyebrow at him.

"You know I do, guv." Another kiss and they were both soon breathless.

"And on that note, I think we better leave before these two scandalize the entire village," Greg snatched a piece of baklava from a passing tray, took a bite and offered it to Molly.

"Oh god, no. I don't think I'll be able to eat for another month."

"Suit yourself," he shrugged and shoved the whole thing in his mouth.

"Mature," Andy laughed.

"You're one to talk," with a wink, Greg took Molly's hand and led her to their cottage.

Sally watched them go, and then turned to Andy. "Al, you're having fun, we don't have to go back..." The lantern light caught the glint in her eyes, and she seemed to be radiant, whether from the hours in the sun earlier or from the joy she had found within, Andy wasn't sure. He thought perhaps it was both.

"Damn, you are gorgeous, I just..." Pulling her into a slow and lingering kiss, Andy smiled against her lips and hummed. "I think we ought to."

"Really, it's okay..." Andy pulled her tightly to him, and she huffed a laugh as she realized his meaning. "Take me to bed, yeah?"

"Yes, guv."

 

* * *

 

They took their time walking back to the cottage, breathing deep in the clean, sea air. Bluebell and Kya, exhausted from their day's adventure stayed cheerfully close to their humans.

John hummed, content and tucked into Sherlock's side. Sherlock, for his part, had made sure to be in constant contact with some part of John from the moment they left the party. There wasn't much light from the night sky, but John didn't need it to know that he was being studied, contemplated, memorized, by his husband.

"What?" John asked softly as he pressed a kiss Sherlock's neck. He felt the slight shiver of the delicate skin.

"John," Sherlock whispered. "John, I..." He paused, and looked away.

"What is it love?" John stopped and stepped in front of Sherlock, taking both of his hands in his. He ran his thumb lightly over the wedding band. "Did I do something? Was something said?"

Sherlock jolted to attention. "What? No! No, John. No, I'm sorry," he pulled one hand free to cup John’s jaw. "No, you... You were perfect tonight. Brilliant as always." He placed a gentle kiss on John's forehead, and trailed his fingers down along, and then to the back of John's neck in order to tease against the short hairs there.

John sighed and relaxed at the feather light touch. "Sherlock..."

"John," Sherlock whispered.

"The middle of the road is not..."

Silencing him with a chaste kiss, Sherlock placed another on John's jaw, and then two more.

"What..." John took a deep breath and laid his free hand over Sherlock's steady beating heart. "What, then? What..."

"I love you."

John laughed. He couldn't help the joy he felt every time Sherlock said the words. "Is that... that's it? Just because..."

" _That's it?_ " Sherlock repeated with a huff. "I think that's rather significant." He started to pull back, but John took a step nearer.

"Hey," John kissed his neck and his jaw and the side of his mouth. "Hey," he whispered.

"I just..."

"I know, love. I do."

"You can't possibly..."

"The depth? The bigness? The overwhelming..." John kissed his cheek and his nose and pulled him down so he could kiss his forehead. "I do love, I understand. And I'm sorry..."

"John?"

"For laughing. But you just make me so happy. All the time. I've never been this happy."

"It's this place. The party. You're very nearly tipsy."

"I'm not... mmm, well, maybe a bit," he chuckled, "but that's not it. None of those things are the reason I'm happy. It's you. Just you. And I love you, Sherlock." The kiss that followed was anything but chaste, and ended only so they could catch their breath.

A yawn seemed to take John by surprise, and he stretched. "God I'm tired- Oooff." He was cut short by Sherlock ducking down and hoisting him over his shoulder. "Bloody hell Sherlock! Put me down!" For all that he wanted to sound demanding, John couldn't suppress the giggles as he struggled to get free from Sherlock's surprisingly strong hold.

"I said I would carry you... Damn it John, stop kicking, that's my face," chuckling, Sherlock wrapped his arm tightly around John’s thighs. Kya and Bluebell had no idea what this new game was, but they barked and jumped gleefully as Sherlock started walking toward their home.

"Sherlock... I'm serious. Sher- fuck... I can't catch my breath," John was reduced to helpless whining giggles. "C'mon."

"Mmm, no. I rather like the view." With his free hand, Sherlock smacked John's bum.

"Bastard," there was nothing to be done but for John to pinch Sherlock's bum in return, nearly toppling them both when Sherlock jumped in surprise. He devolved into another fit of giggles. "You can't carry me all the way."

"Is that a challenge, captain?" He ran his fingers softly up and down John's leg.

"Oh, fuck," breathed John. He was hiccoughing from laughing. "Sherlock..."

"Hmmm," Sherlock hummed. "Have to conserve your energy, John."

"Git. What about your energy?"

"I am master of my transport. Don't worry about m-" Sherlock yelped and only just barely managed to keep John from near disaster. "Did you just _bite_ me?"

"What is your transport telling you?"

"It's telling me I better hurry this along," Sherlock huffed as he picked up his pace. "This would be a lot easier if you'd just stop squirming." He patted John's bum again and turned his head so he could kiss John’s knee.

"You're not exactly making it easy on me here. Especially with this," John grabbed a handful of Sherlock's bum,causing another stumbling misstep, "just right here for the taking."

"Fuck."

"Yeah," John laughed at Sherlock being reduced to profanity. "You really aren't going to let me down?"

"No _p_ e." He popped the 'p' for emphasis.

"Uhm... Maybe hurry, yeah?"

"Hurrying."


	27. Contentment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You are my heart, my life, my one and only thought.”  
> \- Arthur Conan Doyle

Sally leaned into Andy's shoulder and sighed as his arm tightened slightly around her, as they walked back to the cottage. He chuckled softly and Sally smiled as she felt the resulting rumble beneath her fingers that were resting lightly along his ribs. For once, she didn't have to ask, she knew he was content, free from the ghosts and doubts that usually haunted him. He kissed the top of her mass of sandy curls and whispered, "a bath first, I think."

"Mmmm, sounds perfect," she murmured back.

 

"Close your eyes, love." Mycroft's voice rumbled in Vi's ear. She did, but not before briefly wondering how she came to so easily trust the man who wore her ring. She knew it had happened long ago, but it still astonished her -

"Open them." She did as he commanded and gasped. He had guided her to a beautifully secluded spot, a place that seemed made for them, the sand appeared to be untouched, the water gently lapped at their feet. The half moon gave them a bit of light, just enough to see the glitter in his eyes, as he watched her face change.

"It's perfect, Myc," she breathed.

"May I?" 

She nodded, and turned so he could undo the knot at the nape of her neck, allowing her flowing sea green dress to flutter silently to the sand.

"Vi." His voice caught as his hands rested on her hips.

"You, now." She smirked before her lips found his, and her hands deftly removed his well-tailored shorts and silken pants. She sighed and pulled away, then unbuttoned his soft cotton shirt, becoming serious as she pushed it from his shoulders. For once neither cared about being discreet or proper, as Mycroft pulled her against him, and she moaned, feeling how close he already was, just being near her was enough, she realised. She found his eyes again and was struck by the emotion in them. How close, she reflected, how very close they had come to not being on that sand, standing together, almost one soul, split -

"I know, love -" Mycroft hummed against her hair, which had fallen out of its moorings hours ago. "A swim? Then home?"

She found her voice was worn from all of the chatting and laughter during the evening's festivities, so her answer was in the form of a rather chaste kiss on the inside of his wrist. He snorted happily, which made her giggle, then she covered her mouth, as if shocked by her own response. She grinned mischievously as she suddenly grabbed his hand and pulled him into the water, eliciting a yelp of surprise. They walked hand in hand, until Mycroft stopped. 

"I hope, Vi, that if you ever doubt my love for you, that you will think back to this night and recall this moment, when the world stood still for us."

 

As they crossed the threshold, John slid down from Sherlock's shoulder and was about to chastise his husband for abusing his 'transport' so, when he felt strong arms pull him back. He moaned softly as Sherlock began deconstructing his arguments with a loving assault on that one place -

"Sherlock?"

"Hmmmm?"

"We should take this to our room, a bit more private? I really need to get you out of those bits of clothing, and I truly need you to make love to me immediately, unless there is a word that is sooner than that?"

Sherlock raised a beautiful eyebrow at John, then hoisted him into his arms once more. "Immediately should be soon enough, yes?"

John nodded and grinned as Sherlock marched them to their room and pushed the door closed behind them with a slight nudge of his barely shod foot. He laid John gently on their bed, then paused for a moment. "I have never seen you more beautiful than you are right at this moment. I don't think I've ever seen you so at ease with everything, your eyes -. Simply stunning, love." Sherlock removed John's sandals, then worked swiftly to undress him. He slipped out of his own shoes, and was about to rush through his own disrobing, but John stopped him.

"Slow down, love, I want to see you." John sat up so he could observe every bit of his husband, including the slight blush that was softening his strong cheekbones. 

"How do you - you just have to be in the same room and I - damn, John, I want you, need you, so much." He undid the last button on his shirt and crawled into bed, letting John take the offending bit of cloth from his torso, and tossing it to the floor.

"And I, you. You have bewitched me, ever since your voice called out to me, so long ago, my love." His breathing changed sharply as Sherlock's lips connected with his, followed by the rest of the lanky, yet solid man, sending gentle shockwaves through the now silent doctor. Together they recovered their breaths and made slow, tender love as one; they knew exactly what the other needed, as if they had spent lifetimes loving each other. Then John pulled Sherlock into his arms as he felt his husband fight to stay awake.

"Sleep, love, I will be right here."

Sherlock whispered, "of course you will; don't be silly -" and with a gentle whistle of breath, and a sweet smile, he tumbled into a deep sleep. John sighed against the slightly damp cascade of curls, closed his eyes and followed him not a moment later.


	28. Settling In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It was with a sense of exultation that I realized how completely I had astonished him." - Arthur Conan Doyle

"It's no wonder the boys were so anxious to get back here. I'd never go back if I didn't have..." Molly let her words trail off as she stepped into the bedroom and caught sight of Greg. Reclined against a stack of entirely too many decorative frilly pillows, bare chested, the duvet pulled just barely to his hips, he looked more relaxed, more content than she ever remembered seeing him.

With his hands clasped behind his head, Greg smiled and took his time studying Molly. Her hair tumbled in loose wisps around her shoulders, and she had let her robe just begin to fall open.

“I would not wish any companion in the world but you,*" Greg whispered. He held out his hand to her in invitation.

Molly blushed and ducked her head, loosening the belt of her robe. She took a timid step forward. “A heart to love, and in that heart, Courage, to make’s love known.*"

“Ah," Greg chuckled at Molly's response. How had he ever imagined any woman more perfect than she who stood before him? Baring her heart, her whole being, and still sparring with him using a shared love of the great bard. He urged her forward with a slight wave of his hand. "Her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love.*"

Molly paused to consider her comback, chewing her lower lip in just _that_ way. Greg leaned up, caught her hand in his and pulled her toward him. She knelt on the bed next to him and kissed him breathless. "Hi," she managed to breathe.

"Hello, love," he mumbled against her ear.

Straddling Greg's thighs, Molly let the robe slip down her shoulders. She caressed his face, his hair, his neck, with light touches. His eyes remained intently on her own, his brow furrowed in contemplation. She kissed away the worry around his eyes. "What are you thinking about?"

"How perfect you are," his hand settled on her hip.

"If I'm perfect, then you must be as well," Molly placed a finger over Greg's lips before he could protest. "I think, we are only perfect together."

"Hmm, perhaps." He kissed her fingers. "And what is it you are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking we're both exhausted," she cradled his head in her hands and kissed him deeply. "And I want nothing more than to curl up right here, with your arms around me, and fall asleep listening to your heart beat."

"You really are perfect. My heart, my love, my world," Greg whispered as Molly folded herself against his chest and he pulled the duvet up around them.

“For where thou art, there is the world itself, And where thou art not, desolation,*" Molly placed gentle kisses along his jaw as he wrapped her in his arms.

“I love you more than words can wield the matter,*" Greg sighed and pulled her ever nearer.

"Hear my soul speak.*" Placing her hand over Greg's heart, Molly relaxed fully against him.

* * *

 

Despite a small light being on in the kitchen, Mycroft stumbled in the dark crossing the threshold, nearly sending them both crashing to the floor. Making more noise than intended as they whispered giggled curses and tried to shush one another, Violet helped him upright and into the cottage. She stepped out of her sandles and helped Myc off with his own.

They barely made it to the center of the room before Vi pulled her husband to her in a kiss that threatened his balance once more. "God, Myc. That was brilliant, you were brilliant, and that thing you did..."

"I don't deserve all the credit-" they froze, mortified, when Sherlock cleared his throat from the other side of the kitchen worktop.

"Violet. Brother." He cocked an eyebrow at them and smirked. "Lovely night for a swim."

"Oh god," Vi was glad for the relative darkness of the room. She buried her face in Myc's shoulder.

"We didn't disturb you, did we, brother?" Mycroft rolled his eyes at the mess of Sherlock with a loaf of bread, spreading honey and preserves on roughly cut slices.

"Not at all. Must keep the transport replenished. Rigorous activities. Hazards of the besotted. You understand."

"Oh god," Vi groaned again, her face still hidden.

"Crass," Mycroft rolled his eyes.

"Oh please-"

"Sherlock?" John called out from their room, his voice thick with sleep. "Sherlock, where..." Sherlock relaxed when he didn't hear the edge of panic in John's voice.

"Kitchen, love." He smiled to himself as he heard John, still mostly asleep, struggling free from the blankets. Sleepy John was his favorite. Next to happy playful John. And compassionate doctor John. And Captain Watson. And bossy no nonsense John, which was not the same as Captain Watson. Oh, and damn fine sexy John. John. Just John. John was his favorite.

Sherlock was interrupted from his contemplation by Mycroft clearing his throat. Oh. "Myc and Vi are here too, John." He chuckled at the lazy cursing from their room. "All right?"

John hummed and blinked bleary eyes at them as he stumbled from their room over pyjama bottoms that were clearly too long for him.

"John," Mycroft nodded.

Huffing as he studied Sherlock in the kitchen for a moment, John shook his head and simply muttered, "loo," before stumbling off to the toilet.

"Well..." Vi finally extracted herself from hiding after a moment of awkward silence, "I think..."

"Loo's free. Tub's clean and the shower has surprisingly good water pressure." A more coherent John made his way to the kitchen. He paused to take in the sight of Sherlock making his snack, and his tired smile went a bit devious. He hummed in appreciation before retrieving a bottle of water from the fridge. He handed one to Sherlock and tossed one to Myc. "Vi? Gotta stay hydrated."

Sherlock snorted and Vi groaned. "Arses. Both of you." She turned to Mycroft. "Shower, I think. Join me?"

"In a moment. I need a word with my brother," he kissed her on the forehead before she stepped away, then waited for the door to click shut behind her. "Is it too much to ask of you to remember you have guests? This is hardly appropriate behavior."

"What? I'm fixing a snack for my husband and myself, in _our_ kitchen, in _our_ home. I fail to see..."

"Uhm, καρδιά μου, he may have a point," John chuckled and smacked Sherlock's bare bum. "You probably scarred Vi."

"I stayed right here the whole time," Sherlock grumbled. "But if you're going to take _his_ side, I'll just go back to bed and leave this mess for you." He picked up his plate and marched resolutely back to their room. John giggled and watched him go, appreciating the show too much to be cross with the mad git. Mycroft averted his eyes with a disdainful huff.

"John?" Sherlock stepped fully out once more, still completely stark naked, and Mycroft nearly sprained himself in the hurry to turn away. "Leave it."

"Leaving it," John strode quickly across the room. He nodded once to Mycroft, who rolled his eyes in return, pushed Sherlock into their room and locked the door behind him.

"I think perhaps a place of our own is next on the agenda," Mycroft murmered to himself and shook his head as went to join Vi in the shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *"The Tempest," William Shakespeare, Act III, Scene i
> 
> "Macbeth," Shakespeare, Act II, Scene ii
> 
> "Anotony and Cleopatra," Shakespeare, Act III, Scene v
> 
> "Henry IV," Shakespeare, Part II, Act III, Scene ii
> 
> "King Lear," Shakespeare, Act I, Scene I
> 
> "The Tempest," Shakespeare, Act III, Scene i


	29. Super Powers?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You seem to have powers that are hardly human..."  
> -Arthur Conan Doyle

Donovan leaned against their bedroom door as she watched Andy undress. Even in sea dampened swim trunks and t shirt, he still disrobed with military precision, as he did everything, except...she felt herself blush when he finally turned his gaze on her. He grinned and something in her broke wide open. She slid down the door until the floor seemed to rise to meet her. Somehow, he was there, sitting next to her, simply holding her hand in his when she opened her eyes. She turned to look at him and their eyes met; once again, she marveled at the wisdom in such young eyes, but she blinked hard as she realised the shining eyes were no longer filled with pain, but only the love he carried for her.

"You are -"

"-magical, love." He kissed her right hand, then her left; his eyes never left hers - it seemed to her, ridiculous as it should have been, that he was looking into the very workings of her soul. Then she started laughing, understanding finally that everything about them being together was utterly illogical and completely ludicrous, and it did not matter in the least. They simply were what they were, the hows and whys were best left not considered. Andy didn't say a word, simply pulled her into his lap and held her until she stopped shaking. Then he kissed her softly, and waited. Waited for her to catch her breath, or to catch up, she wasn't quite sure.

"I'm -"

Andy shook his head and laid a finger on her lips. "No, I'm the one who is sorry, Donovan. You kept telling me, and I wasn't ready to hear it; you are the only person in my life who has never given up on me, or abandoned me. You are the first to love me in all of my brokenness; I always believed I had to be healed, whole enough before anyone, myself included, could love me. You are healing me, by loving me as I am, for who I am. You have no idea how powerful you are, my love."

She leaned into his chest and felt his arms settle around her, and after a moment of stillness, she sat up and looked into his eyes again. "I'm not a magician, love. I am simply a woman in love with a brilliant, gentle and absolutely gorgeous man. I didn't believe people like me deserved to be as mind-shatteringly happy as I am with you. Tonight, as I watched you dance, and saw the pure joy in your eyes, I knew that we both finally laid down the last bits of the armour that we have carried around for far too long. I feel like I'm twenty pounds lighter, and I'm filled with your light, your joy, your compassion." She kissed him, then stood up carefully and ran her fingers through her tangled, wind tossed hair, before helping him to his feet. "A bath, and then, I don't want to do anything for the forseeable future, unless it is to make love to you."

Andy laughed and kissed her on the tip of her nose. "I think that can be arranged, my love."


	30. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We also have our diplomatic secrets.” -Arthur Conan Doyle

John startled awake with a gasp. "Bloody hell," he panted, trying to remember what had made him wake. He couldn't recall a nightmare, but then he wasn't exactly sure where he was. The light didn't seem quite right. The room was... _Home_. He sighed in relief; it had to be mid-morning. He let his eyes drift closed again as he stretched. Reaching out, he discovered the other side of the bed was empty.

Chuckling to himself as he thought about  the previous evening, John snuggled deeper under the duvet, hoping that if he waited long enough, Sherlock would come back and be convinced to join him. He was near drifting off again when the scrape of furniture being moved and a crash from the next room had him up and out of the bed in an instant. Definitely not a nightmare.

"Fuck," he scrambled for some clothes. "What the hell are Myc and Vi doing-" He froze with his hand on the doorknob, and blushed furiously. "Oh god, okay..." Perhaps he should go back to bed. He really did _not_ want to know...

Sherlock threw the door open, forcing John to jump and stumble backwards so they wouldn't collide. Sherlock caught him in an awkward embrace and a surprisingly not awkward, lingering kiss. "Good, you're awake. We need your help."

"Good morning," John chuckled and tugged Sherlock into another kiss.

Humming contentedly, the urgency disappeared from Sherlock's face, and he seemed to be lost in the moment. Almost. Another scrape of furniture and his focus returned. "You, John, are a distraction," his grin was a bit wicked. "Beguiling. A siren song..."

John cocked an eyebrow and took Sherlock's hand. "Let's test it..."

"Sherlock?" Mycroft called from the guest room. Sherlock shook his head as if to clear it.

"Later," he assured John. "But now, we need tools. And... someone with the ability to use them properly."

"Hmm, you really know how to make a bloke feel special," John rolled his eyes, patted Sherlock's shoulder, and stepped past him. Sherlock caught him and pulled him back to his chest.

"John," Sherlock's voice was a low rumble, and John felt it to his core. " _Please_? I promise, I'll make the thank you worth it." He kissed John's jaw and that spot on his neck. They both shivered.

"You're a menace," John sighed. "I'll get the tools."

A quick kiss on John's forehead and Sherlock dashed from the room. He skidded into the room next door. "John's going to... Myc, what are you... Oh, John is not going to be happy."

"Damn Holmes brothers," pinching the bridge of his nose, John sighed and trudged out to get the tool kit from the pantry. Vi was in the kitchen, making toast and generally attempting to avoid the center work top.

"Morning," John mumbled. He retrieved the kit and rubbed the back of his neck. "About last night..."

Vi waved him off, poured two fingers of brandy in a tumbler and pushed it into John’s free hand. "All is forgiven, because..." She motioned to the guest room and rolled her eyes.

"It's early, yeah?" John eyed the drink.

"People drink at brunch," she slid a piece of toast to him. "You're gonna want that."

"What am I walking into?"

"Myc remembered a secret hiding spot in that room. Rather, he remembered having it, but not where it was. Apparently he hid some childhood treasures in there," Vi shrugged. "He asked Sherlock about it..."

"That’s all I need to hear." Shaking his head, John downed the drink. "Remember me fondly?" Vi tipped her glass to him. Before she could say a word, there was a splintering crash from the other room.

"That's your cue."

Cursing under his breath, John stalked into the the bedroom. The sight that greeted him might have ordinarily made him laugh. Mycroft was on his hands and knees peering into a sizeable hole the wall. He was instructing Sherlock, who was crouched at his shoulder, where to shine the torch. Yes, it would have been quite humorous had the newly acquired hole in the wall not been made in the wall of his own recently acquired home.

"John is definitely _not_ going to be pleased," Sherlock mumbled.

"No, he is not," John stood rigid and kept his voice stern. Sherlock jumped, fumbled the torch and sat down hard. Myc bumped his head on the edge of the hole in the wall. They both went pale as they turned to face him, contrite looks of guilt on their faces, intense eyes searching him for a reaction.

"It was Mycroft!" Sherlock broke first. He scrambled to stand and stumbled toward John. 

"Ah, for once, the accusation is true," Mycroft stood with a bit more grace, still rubbing the back of his head. "My apologies, John. I'll have it repaired immediately. I was only-"

"Searching for your hiding place. Vi told me," John took a few steps into the room, but instead of accepting Sherlock's pathetically apologetic open arms, he handed him the tool kit and stepped around him. Sherlock huffed and pouted as John shoved the desk back into its spot, the legs scraping obnoxiously across the floor.

"John, what are you doing?" Sherlock frowned, he and Myc both watched John with confused curiosity. John crouched down, tossed a rumpled pair of Mycroft's trousers aside, and tapped a few boards in the corner. A moment later, and he was sliding a board out of place, revealing a neat opening in the floor. He stood, arms crossed over his chest and looked Myc in the eye. "This hiding place?"

"How..." Myc stammered. He glanced from John to the opening in the floor, and took a cautious step forward.

"This was my room last time we were here."

"You only slept here one night. You barely used this room," Sherlock dropped the tool kit on the bed and positioned himself between Myc and John.

"You know how I am in an unfamiliar place. Have to get acclimated." John shrugged. "Didn't even have the Sig with me, but I needed to find a place to conceal it just in case."

"John," Sherlock sighed, smiling proudly. "Brilliant soldier."

"Idiot."

Mycroft cleared his throat. "Do you mind?" He nodded to the opening in the floor.

John rolled his eyes and stepped out of the way. Sherlock looked torn, unable to decide who deserved more of his attention. John being clever was a definite weakness. But the curiosity...

With an indignant huff, Mycroft pounded his fist on the floor. "It's gone!" He turned to face John. "What did you do with it? The tin box, and the tube... the..."

"Don't you accuse John of taking your stupid things!" Sherlock growled.

"Boys! That's enough," John exhaled a deep breath. "Bottom drawer," he pointed to the bureau. Mycroft tugged it open quickly and laughed. He opened the tin, sifted through it quickly, closed it carefully and tucked it back in the drawer. Then he lifted a long cardboard tube reverently from the drawer and gingerly dusted it off.

"What is it?" Sherlock breathed.

"A kite," Mycroft whispered, he smiled wistfully.

"A kite? One of the big χαρταετός?" 

Mycroft nodded. "Father bought it for me."

"Why didn't you build it?" Sherlock knelt beside Myc.

"I was not... pleased when our parents informed me that you were to be born. He bought it in an attempt to appease me." They exchanged a _look._ "He wanted the three of us to build it together, when you were old enough. But by then mummy was on her speaking tour, and we never came back here as a family."

Sherlock sniffed. "Father bought that for us?" Myc nodded. "We could maybe... do you think?"

"I'd very much like to." Once again two sets of intense Holmes eyes turned to John. This time, they appeared to be asking permission.

"Oh for god's sake," John sighed. "You're grown men. Build the damn kite." He turned to leave the room. "I need to go to town for some supplies. And Sherlock..." 

"Hmm?" Both Myc and Sherlock were completely absorbed in carefully removing the kite kit from the tube.

"Eventually we need to talk about the ceremony."

"Ceremony?" Sherlock glanced up at him.

"You know, the reason all our friends came all the way here? Exchanging vows here on the island."

"Right." Sherlock nodded, but John wasn't convinced.

"I'll bring back something for lunch." John shook his head.

"John?" Sherlock was suddenly at his side, staring at him intently.

"Yes, Sherlock?" John barely breathed.

"Do we have any glue?"

"Sod off," John laughed and shoved him away. "I'll add it to the list." Sherlock kissed him and dropped quickly back down next to Mycroft.

Violet leaned against the door frame. "This could either be an exercise in brotherly bonding-"

"Or lead to the third world war." John chuckled. "Walk with me?"

"Yeah, there is no way in hell I'm staying here. It's only a matter of time before Sherlock tries to burn the instructions," Vi laughed.

"And Myc tries to give a direct order."

"We are right here," Sherlock grumbled.

"Indeed, if you don't have anything constructive to contribute..."

"I think we're being banished," sticking out his elbow, John tucked Vi's hand around his arm. "Shall we take the long way?"

"Definitely."


	31. Sixth Sense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Dogs don't make mistakes."
> 
> -Arthur Conan Doyle

Sally awoke to a duet of dogs at their door. She looked over at Andy, still fast asleep, peacefully for once, she noted with a relieved sigh. She threw on a pair of shorts and a t shirt, then went to answer the door.

"Yes? Where are John and Sherlock? Still in bed, I bet - a run? Hmm... just hold on." She shook her head at herself, talking to dogs, I'm talking to dogs and I almost expect them to talk back. "Damn it, Holmes, you've made me believe in magic."

Bluebell and Kya looked at one another, then back at her, as if asking her to get a move on. 

"All right, just let me leave a note and get my shoes on." The dogs sat patiently, as she found a pen and paper and wrote Andy a note, then left it on her pillow.

 

Out running with Bluebell & Kya, back in a bit. I love you. - S

 

She threw on her old running shoes, then leaned over Andy and kissed him gently. "Back soon." She slipped out the door quietly, saw Ioanna beginning to make coffee, and grinned. "The dogs decided I needed a run, looks like they understand what breakfast means around here -"

"Sally." Ioanna shook her head at Donovan and threw up her hands. "You young women, much too thin, need good food..." She looked at Donovan thoughtfully and nodded. "Your young man - he is beginning, just beginning to believe in himself and in what you have been trying to tell him. That he is enough - you need to know that too. You are what he needs, you, as you are. You know that though, yes? Now, go, before the dogs leave you behind, go - I will tell Andy where you've gone. Go!" Ioanna shooed Sally out the kitchen, and went back to making coffee and an enormous breakfast.

Donovan ran with the dogs for a time, she wasn't sure how long, as time seemed to be different there on the island; then they ran off to explore something or other, so she was left on her own until she turned around again, suddenly needing to be with Andy.

"Ridiculous!" She muttered to herself, "I'm a fully independent person, been on my own so long I can't even remember, I don't need -" she stopped then, to catch her breath, when she saw him coming towards her. "I do need him, but it's because I love him, and I am happier with him, than I am by myself. I don't have to be alone to prove something anymore. I am better -"

Andy stood in front of her and took her hands in his, listening and watching her intently. "I am better with you, than without you. I never believed that someone would truly want to be with me, not anyone who honestly wanted to know me, and love me for all of it, all of my odd bits, the parts I never understood - but you, you do. And now, now, I find I even breathe easier when you are by my side." Andy nodded, then smiled and was about to kiss her when the dogs suddenly reappeared. They barked happily and seemed to be pushing the couple back in the direction of the cottage.

"All right, all right, girls! What's the hurry? - oh, god, that smells amazing!" She grabbed Andy's hand, and pulled him into the cottage, where Ioanna was loading up two plates full of eggs, fresh bread and fruit. 

"Coffee is already on the table, go sit, my children." 

Sally laughed as she saw the two dogs stretched out by their chairs, waiting patiently as always. Andy kissed her then, and grinned. "Dogs are never wrong about people, they have a way of knowing - and they have decided that you, that we, are their kind of people."

"You mean they know we'll give them treats under the table?" Sally's eyes danced at Andy.

"Precisely." Andy pulled out her chair for her, and bowed deeply, before sitting down across from her. "All that you said just now? Goes for me, too, love."

Sally looked into his eyes and nodded, then laid her hand over his, realising she didn't need to say a word. Their shared silence spoke volumes.


	32. Voice of Reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There are always some lunatics about. It would be a dull world without them.” -Arthur Conan Doyle

_Don't forget the glue. SH_

_This specific type. Ask the shopkeeper. Don't try to pick it out on your own. SH [photo attached]_

_And kite string. SH_

_Kite string, glue, and more cherries. SH_

_The cherries aren't for the kite. SH_

_John? SH_

_John. SH_

_Stop being stubborn. SH_

_Fine. Please. Please will you get glue, kite string, and cherries? SH_

_John. SH_

_Are you angry? SH_

_Mycroft already took the blame for the hole. He promised to fix it. SH_

_Prolonging your anger is unnecessary. Your shoulder will ache from the tension. SH_

_Don't be angry. Please? I'm sorry. Come home? SH_

_Just forget the shopping. Myc can go later. SH_

_Fine. I'll go later. SH_

_But still get cherries. SH_

_John. SH_

 

"I knew you were prone to overly sentimental outbursts on occasion, brother mine, but I was unaware..."

Sherlock huffed in frustration and glared over his mobile at Mycroft. "What? What are you on about?"

"Has telling John to stop being stubborn ever actually had the desired effect?" Mycroft smirked and tossed John's mobile. Sherlock dropped his own phone in the scramble to catch John’s.

"What the hell, Mycroft?"

"John left that in the kitchen, along with a note."

Sherlock snatched the note off the tea tray before Mycroft could even set it properly on the floor. With a bemused roll of his eyes, Myc took his spot back on the floor and leaned over to study the components of the kite they were attempting to build.

 

_S_

_~~Stop being an arse,~~ put your mobile away, and try to get along with your brother. Enjoy the time together._

_I know to ask the shopkeeper for the correct glue. And you'll need string too, yeah? Don't suppose you'd be interested in manjha*? Could make things interesting. You'd like kite fights I think._

_And don't worry. I won't forget the cherries. Maybe some olives too._

_Love you._

_J_

_P.S. - There better not be any more holes in the wall when we get back. Or any other structural damage for that matter._

_P.P.S. - This is Vi. I marked out the bit about being an arse. You and Myc work better when you push each other. Have fun. And I have my mobile, because John insists on being stubborn._

 

Sherlock snorted and smiled fondly at the scribbled missive. "Idiot," he mumbled and carefully tucked the note into his pocket. He looked up to see Mycroft watching him studiously. Huffing indignantly, he'd forgotten for a moment that he'd had an audience, Sherlock grabbed a cup of tea with a bit too much force and spilled some. "Oh, what?"

"I saw you, briefly, together as children. If I had only tried to understand it then. But I was jealous. You were so young, and..."

"Myc..."

Mycroft smiled wistfully. "You're as good for him as he is for you. Sometimes I wonder..."

"Don't," Sherlock sighed. He shifted a few of the delicate support sticks. "We've moved on from that. John and I have no regrets. Not any more. We choose not to waste the precious time we have."

"Wise words, little brother," Mycroft's smile was genuine, and Sherlock seemed almost taken aback by it. "I have come too slowly, almost belatedly, to the understanding of the importance of time."

"You and Vi are good for each other as well."

"Hmm," Mycroft hummed his agreement. "Some days I am in awe..."

"As am I," Sherlock smiled and shrugged. "Every day, to be honest." He cleared his throat and glanced at his mobile. "So, are we going to build this kite?"

"Don't be tiresome. Send the text, or you'll be distracted," Mycroft chuckled. Sherlock grumbled, but typed out a quick text.

 

_I love you. SH_

_Wait. That was for John. SH_

_Though I am fond of you too, Vi. SH_

_Ha. Love you too, Sherlock. ;) VH_

_John rolled his eyes and said mushy things I refuse to repeat. VH_

_But he does love you. VH_

 

Sherlock laughed outright and placed his mobile down next to John’s. "Where do we start?"

Mycroft unfolded the instruction sheets. "According to this..."

"Already? We don't need those. This is simple geometry, a bit of basic physics, elementary engineering. Rudimentary maths."

"Rudimentary maths that have already been done for us," Mycroft shook the pages for emphasis. "We follow the plans."

"Dull."

"It's not dull if it's right." Mycroft ducked away from Sherlock's attempt to grab the instructions. "No need to complicate things."

"This kite was designed to be assembled by children with no prior knowledge or skill. Surely between the two of us we have enough intellect to construct a simple children's toy." Sherlock snatched the instructions, crumpled them and tossed them under the bed.

Mycroft pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

 

* * *

 

"Damn it. Don't tell him that." John laughed and grabbed for Violet's mobile, but she was too quick for him. "Tell him I didn't say anything mushy."

"Oh for god's sake. We both know he didn't believe that." Vi shook her head and giggled. "He knows you better than you know you."

"True," John sighed. They rounded a bend in the road and Vi stopped short with a gasp.

"Ohh... John," barely breathing the words, she held tight to his arm. "It's so..."

"Beyond words, yeah?" They stood, arm in arm, taking in the vast scene before them. The riotous colors of wildflowers spilling down the hillside, the expansive white beach disappearing into the cerulean sea below. The warmth and glow of the midmorning sun, and the wildlife humming around them. John breathed in deeply, and Vi copied him.

"I've... I think I've seen this place before."

"Sherlock told me about his mum's watercolors," John slid her hand off his arm and entwined their fingers. He gently led her more deeply into the flowers.

"It's just... I never imagined the real place could be so perfect..." Vi wiped her eyes with her free hand, and held almost desperately to John.

"I'm jealous of you, Vi. I wish..."

"Oh, love," Violet pulled him into an embrace. "She would have loved you."

"She remembered me, and she never... She left us letters to apologize. After she was gone." John sighed against her shoulder, then sat down amidst all the flowers. He tugged Vi down next to him and they sat shoulder to shoulder facing out over the sea, still holding tight to her hand. "She said she knew the moment she saw us together as children."

"She thought she had failed him," Violet whispered. "She knew she was wrong. But," letting go of John's hand, she laid her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him, "everything she wanted for him then, he has now. You are everything, John Hamish Watson. Do you realize that? You are that man's life. And you've always been, despite the distance, and the years, and ugliness in between your finding each other."

"I do know," John breathed as tears ran unchecked down his cheeks. "Now I do. It took too long, but we finally figured it out. He's everything, and infinitely more, to me as well."

"I know love," Violet smiled and kissed his cheek. "The whole world knows. Hell, we all knew before you two idiots did."

John huffed a shaky laugh and gently elbowed her in the side. They sat in companionable silence, breathing deeply and soaking in the beauty around them. The enchantment shattered when Violet's mobile chimed with several texts. She groaned but didn't hurry to check it.

"I told you to leave it, didn't I?" John's smile was a bit too smug for her liking.

Vi punched him playfully on the arm. "Don't be an arse." She held her phone out for John to read the messages urging them to hurry.

John rolled his eyes. "And you think I'm the arse." He stretched and laid back with his hands clasped under his head. "They can wait a bit longer."

"True," Vi giggled. "But imagine the damage they'll cause in the meantime." She stood and brushed the grass from her skirt.

"Damn it." John let Vi help him up. "Always the voice of reason," he kissed her cheek.

"Someone has to be." She scrunched her face at his offered arm and took his hand instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Manja (or manjha) is the abrasive string used for fighter kites in Afghanistan, Bangladesh, India, Nepal and Pakistan. It is gummed, coloured and coated with powdered glass.


	33. New Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes."  
> -Arthur Conan Doyle

"Coffee...I need coffee..." Sherlock sighed in resignation.

"Agreed. How on earth did they expect kids to make these things?" Mycroft rubbed his face, then ran his fingers through his hair. "Damn, how did I get glue in my hair..." He narrowed his eyes at Sherlock as his brother tried to smother a grin.

"Longer attention span back then? Go shower before it hardens, then we'll go into the village?"

 

Mycroft was sitting lost in thought when Sherlock returned with their coffees. He sat down and took a sip, waiting for his brother to begin.

"You never used to wait," Mycroft murmured as he breathed in the scent.

Sherlock closed his eyes as he took a sip of the strong coffee. He leaned back and sighed. "John. He taught me how important it is to listen. I didn't know how before. It was always easier to draw conclusions from evidence, the raw data that wasn't tampered with by people; things that told the story, but couldn't lie, until -"

"Until?"

"Until I realised raw data can be interpreted incorrectly if one doesn't know the whole story. For instance, Donovan and Andy, over there, walking together. If you didn't know them, only made a snap judgment based on a single glance -"

"I set them up," Mycroft whispered into his coffee, and didn't meet his brother's eyes.

"What?" Sherlock looked sharply at his brother, but then closed his mouth, and waited.

"You heard me. I won't repeat myself. Andy was one of my best people, always on the top of his game, and then he wasn't. I was keeping an eye on him, began to see signs of PTSD, knew it from what I saw in John, that first night - and you, when you came back. He was cracking along the seams, but I couldn't take him off the active roster without just cause, he always passed the psych exams, knew how to play it. I knew his history, knew why he pushed so hard. No, he never said anything. There were old police reports, his mother abused him until he was able to leave."

"Damn."

"I saw it in his eyes. Knew why he was so good, but reckless at times, he had no reason to play it safe, he believed there was no one who would miss him, if something happened."

Sherlock nodded. "And Donovan?"

"Good cop, but wasn't going anywhere because of her anger, I mostly saw it in her interactions with you. Her story similar to Andy's, they were both headed for disaster, if not immediately, it wouldn't have ended well. I played God, Sherlock."

"Without her, John and I wouldn't be here."

"I am well aware of that. None of us would be."

Donovan turned then and caught Sherlock's eye. She smiled, looked up at Andy, then winked at Sherlock as they kept walking.

Sherlock finished his coffee and stood up. He laid a hand on Mycroft's shoulder and squeezed it lightly. "Thank you, brother mine. I'm starving, let's get some breakfast."

 

"What was the first thing you noticed about Sherlock?" Vi asked.

"Which time?" John smirked as he added another flower to the crown he was working on. "I don't honestly know, Vi. Both times, though, it was his voice that got my attention. When he was a kid, he was asking for help; the second time, his question saved me."

"What did he ask you?"

"Afghanistan or Iraq? He looked at me long enough to know what I was, what I had been. I hadn't been seen in months, not really seen...and then he looked up and our eyes met. To this day, I don't know how I didn't recognise him." He shook his head and placed the finished crown in Vi's hair. "His eyes, they were a bit different from when he was a kid, darker, sharper, I don't know, but I should have known him."

"John, it had been thirty years."

He shook his head and turned away from her. "Still. I almost - didn't, hmm."

Vi laid back into the flowers and blinked at the sky. "I only saw him a few times before he met you for the second time. He wasn't ready, John, he was still so angry, and alone, and brilliant. God, he just shined on his good days, but you wouldn't have wanted to know him on his bad ones."

"I know, Vi. I was there. Not 'there,' there, but I knew, I had dreams, Vi, of him, when he needed me. In the dreams, he knew me and he thought, he believed I had abandoned him, had forgotten him, Vi. I hadn't, not really, but I had to bury him, does that make sense? I couldn't live that wide open, and survive without him. So, he lived in my dreams. Until the day in the lab - the dreams stopped when we met again, mostly because the nightmares made me want to stay awake, luckily Sherlock has a gift for that."

Vi laughed and looked down at her phone.

 

We've surrendered for now, meet us at Ioanna's for breakfast? - SH

 

Vi showed John the text and he shook his head. "I never have a problem getting him to eat here. We should get a move on so we actually get some before it's all gone."

 

On our way. John says - VH

 

John rolled his eyes and grabbed the phone. 

 

I love you. - JW

I love you more. - SH

Nope. Not possible. - JW

All right, I'll save you some cherries. - SH

You do love me. - JW

Hurry, though. - SH

Git. - JW

Berk. - SH

 

Vi smiled as she heard John mutter to the mobile, but saw the light in his eyes that was meant only for his love, and wondered how the universe could conspire against them in such a way. John turned and saw the look in her eyes and shook his head.

"Vi. I've never been as happy as I am right now; he has made his peace with everything and everyone. We are where we are supposed to be, we had a few detours along the way, but we got here, together. And it's enough, Vi. It's more than I could ever imagine, and it's all the more sweet for the journey."

"John Watson, you old philosopher, you." 

"Have to be, don't I?" He stood up and brushed himself off, then offered his hand. "We best hurry, as fond as Sherlock is of me, the cherries won't last much longer."

"Off we go, then."


	34. A Moment of Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I’m afraid… that all the queen’s horses and all the queen’s men cannot avail in this matter." - Arthur Conan Doyle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _*here, for godsake, have some fluff. we're gonna need it over the next few weeks.*_

"My bounty is as boundless as the sea. My love as deep...*"

With a sigh, Molly eased into wakefulness. She waited to open her eyes, reveling in the warmth that enveloped her and the gentle fingers in her hair. She burrowed closer to the strong steady cadence of the heart under her ear, and the words being whispered by her love continued.

"...The more I give to thee, the more I have. For both are infinite.*"

Placing a kiss on Greg's chest, just over his heart, Molly slid her hand up and around the back of his neck. He smiled down at her and met her as she stretched up to kiss him. "'Morning," she mumbled against his lips. Greg hummed contentedly and kissed her again.

"What time is it?" Molly sniffed and snuggled back against Greg's chest.

"Too late for watching the sun rise on the beach," Greg chuckled and ran his fingers through her hair.

"We'll have to watch the sun set then." Molly giggled when Greg's stomach rumbled.

"Not too late for breakfast though. I wonder if we can find anything..."

Molly sat up with a laugh. "You know Ioanna has probably been up since before the sun. She's intent on feeding us up."

"I'm happy to let her. God I miss this food."

"Do you think..." Molly bit her lip in contemplation. "I wonder... Maybe she could teach me a few things."

"I'm sure she would love nothing more than a daughter to pass her secrets on to," Greg grinned and rolled out of the bed when his stomach growled again. "You don't have to learn for my sake though. I do remember a few of my ya-ya's recipes, it's just been a while. And besides," he pinched his own side. "I'd never fit into _those_ trousers again..."

Molly swatted his hand and sat up on her knees. She pulled Greg back down to a kiss, "You're perfect. Always will be. Damn those trousers. You know I like you better out of them anyway." She flushed crimson when her own stomach rumbled.

Kissing her sweetly on the nose, Greg chuckled and pulled Molly up and into an embrace. "Breakfast? And then..."

"To be continued?"

* * *

 

Hands still entwined, Vi and John made their way into town, enjoying the peace and companionable silence. They stopped for a moment on the crest of a hill, admiring the little village.

"God, it's so..." Vi sighed.

John smiled and hummed in agreement.

"I mean..."

"Yeah," John huffed a laugh. Vi rolled her eyes and bumped her shoulder into his.

"Thank you, John," she ducked her head but then looked at him with a reluctant smile.

With raised eyebrows, John looked back at her and squeezed her hand. "Vi..."

"Just... For loving Sherlock so well. Always, even before you knew... For accepting him. And Myc too, despite being a constant pain in your arse."

John laughed outright. "Vi... I couldn't..." He paused to choose his words. "I think I was always intended to love Sherlock Holmes. At least, I can't imagine a life without it, without that love. Or if I try, it's bleak, and would have ended long ago."

"Hmmm," Violet nodded in understanding. "Still, you could've run."

"No. No I couldn't have," John shrugged and smiled fondly at no one in particular, and his eyes seemed far away as they started walking get again. Vi nudged him with her shoulder again. He chuckled and shook his head. "Besides, Myc and Sherlock are sort of a package deal. No way would big brother let me get too far."

"True enough," Vi winked. "You honestly only know a fraction of it. All the surveillance..."

"And I don't want to know!" John laughed. "I should probably be thanking you. I know them both well enough to have realized that there had to have been someone running interference from the inside. It's nice to know I've got someone on my side, at least part of the time."

Violet gigglesnorted, and covered her mouth with her free hand. "You do know them well."

"I've a pretty good working knowledge," John smirked. "Enough to know that Myc is happier than I've ever seen him. No, not just happy... he's content. There's a peace about him I've never noticed before, a calmness that isn't his usual armored put on. And that's you, I think."

Walking on, they admired the scenery and waved greetings to new friends. They stopped at a shop window to inspect the kites on display.

"I'm thinking there will be no peaceful outcome to the kite building venture with Sherlock and Myc both working on one ancient kit. Myc's diplomacy doesn't work on Sherlock, and well, Sherlock..."

"Doesn't always play well with others?" Violet giggled.

"Exactly. Maybe we just need to buy a few new kits, and if all else fails, a couple of these pre-constructed ones," John grinned.

"And to think, they call Sherlock the genius," Vi laughed and it was John’s turn to bump her shoulder. She turned to face John then, and to his surprise kissed him on the cheek. "I'm happy to be on your side, you know. After everything, you are... I'm glad to call you my brother."

John lifted their joined hands and kissed Violet's knuckles. "And a bloke can never have too many sisters."

"I don't know, my actual brothers might disagree with you."

"They're bloody tossers then, and they can sod right off," John winked and squeezed her hand again. He nodded towards Molly and Greg heading to find Ioanna. "We should hurry. If Sherlock hasn't finished breakfast off, Greg will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *"Romeo and Juliette," William Shakspeare, Act II, Scene ii


	35. First Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There are instincts which are deeper than reason."  
> -Arthur Conan Doyle

Sherlock spotted them first. Vi practically vibrated, her joy and singular serenity seemed to make her glow, the crown of flowers John had made for her was almost gaudy in comparison. Then he shifted his glance to his husband, and he had to remind himself to breathe. He rarely got to see John from a distance these days, as they could not bear to be out of each other's sight for long. But to see him hand in hand with Vi, laughing about something, his eyes bright and -

"Sherlock?"

"Hmm?" He looked over at his brother who was grinning broadly at him, not unkindly, just amused. Sherlock rolled his eyes as he knew he must look like a schoolboy adoring a secret love from afar.

"I asked you to pass the preserves."

"Ah." He passed over the jar, then reached for another cherry, but stopped short as he felt John's lips find that place that made him see stars.

"Still some for me?" The voice John usually saved for behind closed doors rumbled in his ear, and he found all he could do was nod, and pull John awkwardly into his lap.

"I missed you." Sherlock saw John's eyes darken and knew the feeling was mutual. 

"You have glue in your hair, καρδιά μου." John pulled a bit of goo from Sherlock's curls and shook his head.

"It was Myc's fault." Sherlock grumbled.

"Honeymoon's over," Mycroft sniggered as Vi stole his roll from his plate.

Sherlock grinned and muttered, "you were saying?"

Vi sighed and waved a package at them. "We bought extra kits, and a couple already made so you will get to fly one before we leave."

Andy and Donovan laughed as they slid into chairs next to Sherlock. "Good thing we didn't have that lie-in, there might not be anything left," Andy scoffed good-naturedly as he grabbed a fig and popped it into his mouth. "Oh." Sally shook her head at him and kissed him lightly, as their friends smiled at them. "Are you sure the Met really needs us back in a week, Guv?"

"I don't think the criminal classes will cease operating simply because you have discovered your true love is actually anyone who will serve you fresh figs."

"Damn, I was afraid you were going to say that." 

Just then Alex and Niko ran up to the table, babbling in Greek with a smattering of broken English. 

"Κόψτε ταχύτητα" John bellowed happily over their chatter. "Slow down, boys, slow down!"

Niko pulled on Sally's arm and took a deep breath and blew it out again. "Alex and I, we have something to play for our αγαπημένες φίλο. We worked on it all last night, come, please. It is a uhm, Εκπληξη?"

"Surprise?" Sherlock suggested with a smile.

"Yes, all of you, come, please?"


	36. A Musical Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you remember what Darwin says about music? He claims that the power of producing and appreciating it existed among the human race long before the power of speech was arrived at. Perhaps that is why we are so subtly influenced by it. There are vague memories in our souls of those misty centuries when the world was in its childhood." -Arthur Conan Doyle

"Θα έρθεις?" Bouncing on his toes and nearly vibrating with excitement, Niko stood between Sally and Andy, grinning expectantly. "Please?" 

Sally forced herself not to exclaim over how adorable she thought Niko was. "Uhm... Ναί?" She glanced at Sherlock, who nodded approvingly. "Yes, we'll come."

Niko clapped his hands and looked back at Alex, who's eyes were alight with joy. Alex turned quickly and motioned for the others to follow him. Taking Sally's hand in one of his, and Andy's in the other, Niko pulled them from their seats and followed after Alex. "Hurry!" He called over his shoulder to Sherlock and γιατρός John.

"What did you do?" John tousled Sherlock's hair and laughed.

"Me? What could possibly make you think I had anything to do with this?" Sherlock put his hand on his chest and feigned insult.

"Because you, Sherlock Holmes, are a softie," John kissed his forehead, "and at heart, a true romantic." He kissed the tip of Sherlock's nose and cocked an eyebrow in playful challenge. "Now, c'mon." Laughing, John attempted to stand, only to be pulled back to Sherlock's lap, with two strong arms wrapped tightly around his middle and soft lips pressing kisses along _that_ spot on his jaw.

"Take it back," Sherlock's voice was a low rumble against John’s neck.

"Fuu- Sher... Sherlock stop," John was laughing and trying to gasp for air. His weak attempts to escape were to no avail.

"For godsake, get a room," Greg chucked a piece of bread at them, then took a few quick snaps on his mobile. "Someone will pay top dollar for these, I'm sure," he winked and took Molly’s hand.

"You wouldn't dare," Sherlock glared up at him, then placed a quick kiss on the back of John's neck.

"Damn you, lanky git," John huffed. "Why're you so strong?" 

"Wouldn't I?" Greg grinned a devious sort of grin and led Molly after Sally, Andy and the boys.

"I'm tempted to let him," Mycroft rolled his eyes, brushed some imaginary crumbs from his shirt front, and folded his napkin.

"You wouldn't," Vi laughed. Myc raised an eyebrow at her. "Because when it comes to your brother, you're a big softie too, Myc. Always have been." She kissed his cheek and he huffed despite the soft smile teasing at the corners of his mouth.

"I don't know, Vi. He's rather fond of you as well," Sherlock chuckled and kissed John's shoulder. Even with his shirt on, Sherlock knew just where the scarred skin was, and where the nerves were most sensitive. 

John shuddered. "Sherlock," he rasped, "you really, really need to stop." Sherlock hummed in contemplation and held John a little closer.

"On that note," Vi stood and pulled Myc up after her.

"Indeed," Myc rolled his eyes at his brother’s antics. 

"Come on!" Niko stuck his head around the corner and motioned to them to follow. "We're ready to start! Σταματήστε μπέρδεμα γύρω!"

"Yes, brother, do stop messing around," Mycroft smirked. 

"It's John's fault for calling me a romantic. I am nothing of the sort," Sherlock grumbled and frowned when John chuckled and Vi tried to cover a giggle with a cough. "This conversation is not over," he whispered against John's ear.

John groaned and manged to get free of Sherlock's hold. He stumbled to his feet. "Cheeky bastard." Shaking his head, John held out his hand to help Sherlock up. "And you'll never convince me you're not a romantic. You talked the boys into this, I know it."

"The boys wanted to do something for Sally and Andy, to thank them. I _may_ have mentioned to them that they enjoy a good love song..."

"Knew it," John's smile was exultant. "Romantic." He kissed Sherlock's cheek, and ducked away from Sherlock's attempt to grab him once more. "Not now," John laughed. With a wink, he jogged out to follow after Niko.

"He's not wrong, Sherlock," Vi bumped his shoulder with hers and took his hand with her free one so she could lead her Holmes boys to where the others had gathered. "It's this place, I think. And John, of course. You're softer, more easy going... The sharp edges are all gone."

"Oh, don't..." Sherlock sighed, and he looked a bit bashful. "I know. I can't help it. He just... he has no idea what he does to me," he laid his hand over his heart.

"I think he has an idea," Vi squeezed his hand. They followed the sound of their friends laughing to the small garden behind Niko's house. The boys had built a makeshift stage from vegetable crates they'd surely borrowed from Andreas. An odd assortment of folding chairs and stools crowded the small space.

"Mr. Holmes!" Nina, Niko's mother, rushed up to Sherlock and embraced him. "These boys are so happy you and your doctor Watson are finally here to stay."

"Please, call me Sherlock," he kissed her cheek. "And doctor John and I are abundantly happy to be here. Have you met my _much_ older brother, Mycroft, and his wife Violet?" Sherlock introduced them hastily, and took his leave to claim the spot next to John.

"Ridiculous man," John chuckled. He entwined their fingers and kissed Sherlock's knuckles. "Do you know..."

"Yes, I think I do."

John looked up at him with fathomless eyes full of love. He noted the flush rising on Sherlock's cheeks and grinned. "Good, because I..."

"I know, John." 

"Shhhh," Greg hushed them. "Would you two give it a rest? You're making the rest of us look bad with that weird telepathy thing you're doing. You've always done."

Sherlock opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted by Alex clearing his throat as he and Niko stepped up onto their little stage.

"Uhm, hello," he blushed when he received a chorus of greetings in return. He looked to Niko, who nodded in encouragement. "We just wanted to say ευχαριστώ... uhm, _thank you_ to our new friends," he pointed to Sally and Andy with his bow, "and how happy we are that you all are here."

"Me and Alex wrote this song," Niko gushed proudly. Behind him, Timotheos, with his guitar, cleared his throat. Niko rolled his eyes, which everyone thought was adorable. "Θείος Timotheos and Alex's παπά helped too." Timotheos and Petros waved.

"Ετοιμος?" Petros set his violin under his chin, and Alex mimicked his movements exactly. Sherlock watched Alex's every move intently. They started together, Alex tentative at first, slowly gained confidence as they continued. Timotheos joined in, and then Niko began to sing in Greek with his pure sweet voice.

A few lines in, Sherlock leaned forward to whisper to Sally, "It's a love song. It's about..."

Sally smiled softly at him. "I think... I think I understand." Sherlock nodded and Sally leaned into Andy's side. "It's beautiful," she whispered with tears in her eyes.

When the song ended, the boys received an all around and very enthusiastic standing ovation, amidst sniffles and happy tears.

Alex looked timid as he stepped forward and looked at Sherlock. "Σου αρέσει?"

"So much so, that I think we would like to hear it again." Sherlock stood then and extended his hand to Sally. "Detective Inspector Donovan, may I have the pleasure of this dance?"

"Romantic," John coughed and Vi giggled.

"Why, Mr. Holmes, I thought you'd never ask!" Sally giggled and took his hand.

"Again!" Niko shouted and with a laugh Petros and Alex began to play.

Mycroft bowed to Molly, who laughed outright and attempted an awkward curtsy. Andy shrugged at Violet, and it was all she could do not to lead. Greg eyed John.

"Hell no."

"Aw, c'mon. It'll be fun," Greg clasped his hands and pleaded.

"Yeah, c'mon, John!" Andy added.

"Oh god," Molly hid her face in Myc's shoulder. "Just tell me when it's over, yeah?"

"Don't spoil the fun, John." Sherlock rumbled low near John's ear.

"Damn you," John smiled despite himself. "Keep your damn hands where they belong, yeah mate?"

Greg winked and held out his hand to John. "If music be the food of love, play on!*"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Θα έρθεις? - Will you come?
> 
> Θείος - uncle
> 
> παπά - papa
> 
> Ετοιμος - Ready
> 
> Σου αρέσει - do you like it
> 
>  
> 
> *"Twelfth Knight," William Shakespeare, Act I, Scene i


	37. Certainty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Any truth is better than indefinite doubt." - Arthur Conan Doyle

John watched as Sherlock adjusted Alex's fingers on the bow, gently whispering into his ear. Alex's face changed from exhausted schoolboy to an excited student, hanging on Sherlock's every word, nodding and smiling his understanding.

"He's so patient," Molly smiled, she had appeared at John's elbow as if from nowhere. 

"Hmm?"

"Sherlock, with Alex, he is very gentle with him." 

"Sherlock bought him that instrument when we were here last. He wanted to give something back to the village, for what they had given us. He remembers how hard it is to be a child, he never treats Alex and Nico like children. He sees them as equals, he learns just as much from them, as they do from him, probably more."

Alex laughed then, and gave Sherlock a hug, then grabbed Nico's hand, and they were off again, on to a new adventure, energized once again, their exhaustion from their 'all-nighter' forgotten.

Sherlock caught John's eye and John grinned at Molly. "I'll see you at lunch?"

"Sure, John, yeah."

Molly sat down in a chair and watched John casually stroll up to his husband and take his hand. Sherlock winked at Molly and she wiggled her fingers at them as they start their way back to their cottage.

 

They walked in silence, just being together fingers entwined was enough. Finally, after what seemed ages, they arrived at their front door, and Sherlock pushed it open, pulling John inside.

They moved as if they had been lovers for twenty or thirty years; it was no longer trial and error, but certainty. John closed his eyes and breathed in Sherlock's scent, so different now that they were home, and yet so much the same. Sherlock took his time unbuttoning John's shirt, his fingers seemed to know just where -

"Sherlock."

"Hmmmm?"

"Thank you."

Sherlock kissed him softly along his jawline, nearly bringing John to his knees. "What for, love?"

John opened his eyes to find Sherlock smiling at him. "Just, thank you."

"You're quite welcome, love. Are you hungry, or can I take you to bed?"

"Bed, please? I think second breakfast can wait, ohhhhh, hmmmm, especially when you -"

"Yes? You mean, this?"

"Ungghhh, yeah, that."


	38. Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Our highest assurance of the goodness of Providence seems to me to rest in the flowers." -Arthur Conan Doyle

Molly glanced around the small garden and smiled. Still listening to Sally and Vi laughing with Nina about Alex and Niko's exploits, she felt more content, more accepted, than she ever had. These people, her friends, new and old, had somehow become the only family she would ever need.

She'd struggled and fought to be independent for so long -- she knew the same to be true of each of them in their way -- it was almost alarming how easily they'd all fit together. And yet here they were.

Well, John and Sherlock weren't exactly "here," now were they? Molly felt a bit ridiculous for the blush that crept to her cheeks as she knew exactly where, and why, Sherlock had spirited John away. Their orbit around each other had been so tight, so concentrated before, that once they finally took those final magnetically charged steps, they were no longer the consulting detective and his blogger, but SherlockandJohn. That Molly, or any of the rest of them, had been allowed to remain near enough to witness this spectacular transformation was no small miracle, and they were all changed for it. It was impossible not to be, with the atmosphere being charged the way it always was in their wake.

Molly let her gaze settle on Andy. He was sat on the vegetable crates with Timotheos and Petros, strumming away on Timotheos' guitar. Andy would sing a lyric, Timotheos would sing it in Greek, and Andy would try to repeat it. Petros plucked along on his violin, laughing at Andy's terrible pronunciation, and appeared to be offering unhelpful encouragements. Andy, for his part, would laugh, shrug, and try again, all while keeping his eyes focused on Sally. Molly couldn't help but grin.

Nearby Mycroft stood deep in conversation with Ioanna and Andreas. She had missed too much of what had been said, but it sounded as if Andreas were giving Myc well tested and time honored relationship advice. Molly could recall, not so long ago, a Mycroft Holmes who would have dismissed anyone who presumed to know something he didn't. But now, this Mycroft who had finally allowed himself to be open and in love, and had accepted openness and love in return, seemed only too eager to learn. And, Molly thought, perhaps Ioanna had some insight into what had made the love between Myc and Sherlock’s parents so special and enduring.

It was only upon glancing around once more, and knowing Niko and Alex had gone off in search of adventure, that she realized that one of their party was unaccounted for. Greg. Molly groaned and pulled her mobile from her pocket.

_You had better not be tormenting those boys. -MH_

She looked up from her phone to see Vi, Sally, and Nina watching her.

"All right?" Vi laughed.

"Anyone seen Greg about?" Molly sighed.

Sally giggled. "Damn. I actually feel kinda bad for Sherlock and John right now."

"Oh, shite. I hadn't even thought about them. I figured he was off tormenting Alex and Niko."

"They can hold their own, trust me," Nina winked. "They need no help finding trouble. It is your Greg who should be careful."

"One could say the same for our two overgrown boys," Vi rolled her eyes.

"Still, I should probably go check..." Molly turned quickly and crashed right into Greg's chest. He wrapped his arms tight around her with a chuckle.

"You don't trust me at all do you?"

"With good reason," Molly teased and leaned up for a kiss. Greg turned his face away with a mock pout.

"And to think, I was going to surprise you."

"Were you?" She kissed his jaw instead, and she saw his reserve nearly crack.

"Hmm." Greg hummed thoughtfully. "But now you'll need to apologize."

"Forgive me?" Molly batted her eyes at him.

"You'll have to do better than that."

Molly whispered against his ear, and Greg went weak at his knees.

"Yep, that'll do." He took Molly by the hand, and pulled her laughing from the garden. "See you all later!" He called without looking back.

"Well," Vi laughed, slightly stunned.

"It seems this might be a good time to take our leave," Mycroft wrapped one arm around Vi. "I have something I'd like to discuss with you. If..." He glanced at Sally.

"It's okay," she waved him on. "Go on. Nina was going to show me some old scrapbooks of her grandfather's time as a detective. And I'm pretty sure I've lost Andy for a while." They all turned to watch as Andy, Timotheos, and Petros were singing harmony, in Greek, on the chorus of one of Andy's cheesy pop love songs. Sally giggled. "He'll be a while."

* * *

 

"What surprise?" Molly tugged at Greg's hand impatiently.

He retrieved the bag he'd left just outside the garden gate and kissed Molly’s knuckles. "A walk. To the beach... I've got everything we'll need."

"Oh, you came prepared, did you?" Molly laughed. "What if I wanted to do something else..."

"Well, you still have to fulfill your apology, and there isn't any reason we can't do that on the beach," Greg's grin was cocky, and he knew by the way her eyes flashed Molly needed no more convincing.

"I don't care what Sherlock says, you're bloody brilliant, Gregory Lestrade." She laughed and pulled him into a deep, needy kiss.

"Flatterer," Greg mumbled against her lips. "C'mon." He wrapped his arm around her waist and they walked in energy charged silence, enjoying being near, but wanting, needing more. The countryside passed nearly unnoticed, until they crested a hill and found themselves surrounded by the riotous and overwhelming color and fragrance of wildflowers.

"Oh..." Molly gasped. "It's..."

Greg nodded and hummed in agreement. "I'd forgotten. I forgot how beautiful the islands are. And god, look at you. You're gorgeous always, but there's something about the way the sun..." Molly kissed the words from his lips and pulled him out onto the hillside. She guided him to sit so that he was overlooking the sea. "This isn't the beach," he chuckled.

"Hmm," she climbed onto his lap. "No, but it's so beautiful here. I thought maybe..." She captured his mouth in a desperate kiss

"A detour?"

"Hmm. A preview maybe."

"Damn, Molly... And I don't even have any Shakespeare for the occasion."

"Too much talking," Molly kissed him again and pushed him back into the flowers.

* * *

 

Mycroft led Vi around the outside of the empty old house. "Andreas knows the owner. It's been kept maintained, and his asking price is very reasonable. Generous even."

"Myc," Vi laughed. "Are you sure? It's a big step."

"Can you see our future anywhere else?"

"Well, certainly not back at the cottage with your brother and John," Vi laughed once more and bumped her shoulder against Mycroft's.

"Precisely," he chuckled. "And this is where the illustrious γιατρός John rescued young Niko."

"So this house already has family history," Vi took Mycroft's hand in both of hers. "I love it. Let's do it."

"We don't have to rush. A key won't be available to look inside until tomorrow, but Andreas is confident the owner will work with us. What... What are you doing?"

"Trade secret," Violet winked and fussed a bit with the doorknob on the back door. "There!" She grinned when the door swung upon. "Oh, don't look at me like that. You were trying to figure out a way to get in too."

"Ah, I've been caught out," Myc shrugged and Vi kissed his cheek.

"Let's look at our new home!" Vi took his hand and dragged him through the door.

By London standards, the house was on the small side, but it was airy and bright, with a large kitchen and windows everywhere. The bedrooms were upstairs, and the first door opened into a smallish room painted cheery yellow. Lace curtains still hung in the windows.

"Oh," breathed Vi.

"A nursery, perhaps?" Myc whispered and pulled his wife to him. She nodded against his chest, and looked up at him with glistening eyes.

"It's perfect. Please, Myc?"

"Anything, my love. For you..."

"For us," she corrected him with a gentle kiss.

* * *

  
A strong breeze blew in, disturbing the curtains. Sherlock stirred awake slowly, blinking against the midday light. A low rumble of thunder in the distance, and John shivered beneath him. Sherlock wrapped himself more closely around his husband and breathed deeply against his chest.

"Sh'lock..." John tried to stretch, and huffed a sleepy laugh when he realized he was pinned. "Sherlock?"

"Shhh, John."

"Sherlock..." Another low rumble. "Oh," John managed to get one hand free to tug the covers up and wrap his arm round Sherlock's back. "Sounds pretty far away. Probably won't even rain..."

"We should probably stay inside. Just in case," Sherlock kissed John's chest just above his heart.

"Hmmm, well..." Another gust of wind followed by more very distant thunder. "If you think it's for the best. You're so seldom wrong..."

"Shhh, John. I've got you." John could feel Sherlock's playful smile against his skin.

John chuckled and turned Sherlock's face up so he could kiss him. "Hmm, yes. I'd say you're probably right. We should stay in, at least for a while longer. Git."


	39. At Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The past and the present are within the field of my inquiry, but what a man may do in the future is a hard question to answer."  
> -Arthur Conan Doyle

The storm that seemed to be so far away a few minutes ago came upon them with a force that took John's breath away. He was comforted by the look in Sherlock's eyes that had become as dark as the skies above them. 

"I'm here, John, breathe, love." Sherlock thrust into him as the rains began, and John held on tightly, as he buried his face into his husband's shoulder. Soon, John forgot about the wild summer winds as he was lost in Sherlock's rhythm and the only thing that existed was the sound of their breathing together, in and out, until Sherlock wrapped his fingers around John's needy length, and after a few strokes they came together. When John resurfaced, their own man made storm seemed more powerful than the heavy rains pelting their roof.

Sherlock pulled out and kissed him gently before he whispered, "be back in a minute." He returned with a warm, damp flannel, and carefully cleaned them both off. The ritual always made John feel even more cared for, as Sherlock's hands grounded him to the present moment, and his warm bluegreen-golden eyes always found John's darker ones, as if making sure John understood how much he was loved.

John curled against Sherlock's chest, and entwined their fingers. Words were unnecessary, as Sherlock hummed a bit of music leftover from sometime else, and John found himself falling asleep in his gentle embrace. Once again, he wondered how he had managed so long without the man who was tangled around him. Sherlock kissed his forehead, then whispered, "I cannot make up for the time we lost, but you must know you will never face another storm without me. I promise. Rest, my love."

They slept through the rain and into the early evening. John opened his eyes, adjusted to the coming twilight, then rolled to watch his husband as he slept. He rarely had the chance to see his other half so at peace. He looked so young, John thought, and yet, he could see the past months etched in the lines around his eyes, both the joys and the pain of what could have been. John wished he had been able to shelter his love from the roller coaster of emotions they had lived through recently, but realised they needed the fear of losing everything to make what they had now seem even sweeter. He laid his hand over Sherlock's chest, and felt the strong thrum under his fingers. He didn't think he knew of a sweeter sound -

"John -"

Except for that, his name on those lips; the lips he dreamed of so often were now smiling at him in that way no one else ever witnessed. The smile lit up his face, his eyes fairly danced at him in amusement.

John murmured into Sherlock's neck against the spot that made his love purr. "I love you. Do you know, every day I think I can't love you anymore than I did the day before, the hour before, ten minutes ago, and yet -"

"Every day, I discover something new about you, and it feels like I will simply burst. Yes, John, I know." Sherlock pressed those full, beautiful lips over John's heart, then he sighed. "Yes, I know, αγάπη μου."


End file.
